


Millennia

by dragonsoftheeast



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe- Original Caroline, F/M, Work also on FF.net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-10 05:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4378103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsoftheeast/pseuds/dragonsoftheeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We have been by each other's sides for a thousand years. Just because we've let you live this long doesn't mean I'll extend that courtesy if you touch him." The look in Caroline's eyes is feral, and they realize exactly why people fear the pair of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**I've always liked Original!Caroline stories, so this is mine. Hopefully, this will be different. This will be from Klaus' and Caroline's point of view. So read, please review, and I hope I don't need a disclaimer to tell you I don't own TVD.**

**-PhoenixCycle**

\---

"No."

"Caroline, you must-"

"No!"

"We owe Mikael a debt, there is nothing we can do," her mother pleads.

"I don't want to get married."

"You will marry that boy, Caroline. It is your duty to your family."

"I will not marry Finn, he is twelve years older than I am."

"Do you think Mikael would marry you to his firstborn?" Her mother says incredulously. "No, you will marry Niklaus, his third son. You are close enough in age."

"But I don't want-"

"There is no room for want in this world, Caroline."

So she does as she must.

\---

Niklaus internally seethes.

"It's not fair," He says, pacing around the caves. The full moon is high in the sky, and he feels trapped in more ways than one.

"Don't you think you and Elijah been fighting for too long?" Rebekah asked, rolling her eyes. "Frankly, it was getting ridiculous."

Niklaus scowled. "I did not ask for your judgement, Bekah."

"But you need it," His younger sister tells him. "Tatia is just a girl, no matter how beautiful."

"And Mother and Father's brilliant solution for it is to marry me off? To a girl whose family owes us a debt?"

"Owes  _me_  a debt, boy." Mikael's voice echoes off the stone walls.

Instantly, both of his children's faces change, schooled into obedience. Niklaus tilts his head higher, trying to look like the proud warrior his father expects.

"I worked to get this land, and you are the one who wasting it. Do not forget that."

"Never, father." He says.

"You will marry that girl, Niklaus," Mikael says, looking down his nose at his meek son. "Forget that Tatia girl; you would have ended up raising a son that was not your own. That is a kind of humiliation I will never let my family endure."

Niklaus does not argue, but internalizes the resentment.

"Personally, I pity the poor girl you're marrying," Rebekah says lightly. "Who would want to get attached to you for the rest of their lives?"

"Bekah!"

\---

Caroline and Niklaus get married with as much ceremony as their village can muster, and throughout the entire thing, Caroline watches Niklaus' eyes follow Tatia. Elijah's do the same.

She struggles to hold on to her dignity- after all, neither of them are being subtle- but finds herself with her head bowed, trying to avoid anyone's gaze.

"So, you're my new sister," Kol, another of her new in-laws, (gods she had so many) says to her.

"I think your brother prefers it to be otherwise," Caroline says bitterly.

"Ah, yes, Tatia. Their epic tale continues." The teenager looks mightily amused at the drama. "Honestly, you'd think they'd get over her."

"He loves her," Caroline says, looking up to meet Kol's eyes, something burning in hers. "I will spend the rest of my life tethered to this man-child as he moons over another woman. Raise children with him. Be forced to jump onto his funeral pyre."

"If it makes you feel any better, Tatia didn't jump on her husband's pyre either," Kol says. "Though she probably should have, saved us all the trouble."

Despite the ill-willed nature of the humor, Caroline laughs.

"You shouldn't laugh at death, you know," Kol tells her, but he, too, is laughing.

"Then why are you laughing?" she asked, still laughing.

"Because you are."

"Careful Kol, you do not want to get too close to my wife," Niklaus says, teasing as he comes close, carrying two cups of ale.

"Who else could keep me satisfied as you moon over that doe-eyed cow?" Caroline lashes out before she can stop herself. She bites her lip as the awkward subject comes up.

The two men look at her in surprise, but Niklaus neither confirms nor denies.

"Let's dance," Kol says, holding out his arm for her.

Caroline grabs a cup from Niklaus and downs as much ale as she possibly can in one gulp.

"I'm going to need that for the rest of the night," She says, sending a significant glare to Niklaus. Instead of offended, he looks slightly amused.

Kol laughs. "Yes brother, you'll need all the help you can get."

They all know she is referring to.

She dances with Kol because she can, and she  _will_  enjoy her wedding day, gods be damned, because it is hers, and she will not let her thoughts dwell on what waits for her in the night.

Niklaus watches on, glad that this girl is an entertaining one, at least. He knows she dreads tonight, but he does not think it will be so terrible.

That night they both do their duty, just as expected. Caroline has to bite back tears of pain and anger. He never looks at her face through the entire thing.

\---

They come to a comfortable routine after a month, paying attention and ignoring each other in equal measure.

Niklaus just seems happy to be away from his father's house, which is not surprising. It is no secret how Mikael treats his least favorite son.

He at least makes an effort for her, which is more than she expected. And he listens to her, which is wildly unexpected in this world where women are the makers and keepers of children and nothing more.

He helps her avoid his parent's inquiries about a child. She plays the subservient wife everywhere but at home to stave off Mikael's derisive comments about not being able to control her.

They manage a household together, support each other, and sometimes tease each other. But his eyes still follow Tatia, and that makes a bitter taste appear in her mouth.

"Do you think we'll ever love each other?" She asks one night in their bed, facing each other.

"I don't know," He says honestly. "Maybe one day."

"At least we tolerate each other. You're stuck with me."

"Well, we can make it work," Niklaus says. "I think we work well with each other."

At the very least, they are colleagues.

\---

They spend another five months in this kind of partnership, avoiding each other's parents, running their household. That is it.

Their parents remain their biggest problem. They are both subtle and not about the nature off their relationship. They have been trying, but certainly not as enthusiastic as their parents seem to want them to be.

Mikael is the least subtle of them all. Not that he has ever been.

Niklaus comes stumbling back home, blood spurting out of a wound through his shoulder.

Caroline drops whatever she was doing- something or another, it was irrelevant.

"What happened?" She asked, helping him to their bed.

"Father stabbed me with his sword," he says, gasping for breath.

"Lunatic," she mutters. "May I ask why?"

"I got into another fight with him," he says.

She reached to take off his shirt, but he catches her wrist.

"I can take care of myself," He says.

"With what? Your incredible ability to see your own back?" Caroline snorted. "Let me help you."

Niklaus attempts to get up, but with a pained groan, he falls back onto the bed.

"Told you," Caroline says.

"Don't," Niklaus warns, but fails to look threatening in any way.

She inspects the wound, begins to clean it.

"You know you can't beat Mikael," she tells him as he squirms and hisses.

"I can't help it," he says.

"You're impulsive," she says, getting bandages. "That's going to get you killed, you know."

"Not by Father," he says, shaking his head.

She marvels at the faith and the desperation he holds in regards to his father.

"He impaled you with a sword," Caroline says, shaking her head. "And here you are still defending him. If I were you, I'd have killed him in his sleep ages ago."

"Caroline Brandrsdottir*, you are a marvel," he says, shaking his head, hissing his pain.

"Probably why our parents keep urging us to procreate," she says lightly, getting him up to wrap the bandages.

"I am sorry about that," He says, "I know my parents are… intense."

"Seeing as one of them just stabbed you, I'm inclined to agree." She finishes tying the wrap. "Rest up, I'll get your mother for the rest of it." She gets up, but he grabs her by the waist.

"Thank you," he says, and they smile at each other.

At the very least, they are friends.

\---

She feels a mix of emotions when her bleeding stops. That worry that comes with uncertainty. Relief that at least her parents will not nag incessantly about this any longer. A little bit of happiness. But still, that incredible fear that comes with being a potential mother.

Niklaus is absolutely terrified when his mother confirms that yes, Caroline is pregnant, aren't you happy?

His father impaled him with a sword. Was never pleased with him no matter what he did. He has no idea how anyone else would raise their child. Besides, the world is a dangerous place, and he does not think that he could handle losing any child.

He sees other parents with their children, sees Tatia with her daughter, sees his mother with Henrik. How can he be like that?

And the mother of his child…

While Caroline is like no other, he still is half in love with Tatia, and his heart still pangs whenever he sees Elijah with her. Though that feeling has slowly been disappearing.

Neither of them know what to do as her belly grows. She still talks to him, laughing, and he replies with equal mirth. They grow to love each other, and they are, in more ways than one, still clueless. But one thing is certain.

They are to be parents.

\---

It is the worst pain she has ever felt. They tell her it gets easier with time; she screams that she wants to get Niklaus' sword and behead them all.

The sun has already set and she still feels no relief as waves of pain roll over her and she cries out.

Niklaus is banished from the hut where Caroline is giving birth. In a rare burst of fatherliness, Mikael assures him that he is not missing out.

Still, he can hear the screams, and he flinches every time.

"You know, women have been giving birth for thousands of years," Henrik says, unconcerned.

"Doesn't make it hurt any less," Rebekah says in annoyance.

"Yes, Henrik," Kol mocks, "never make light about childbirth. You will be clawed to death."

"And well-deserved, at that," Rebekah replies. "I guarantee you if you went inside that tent, you'd faint."

"How long is this going to take?" Niklaus growls.

"Mother says it can last for days," Henrik says helpfully, and Niklaus growls again.

"Oh, look at Nik being all worried." Kol teased. "How touching."

"Why don't you go and practice magic?" Niklaus says. "I'm sure that will keep you occupied."

The three youngest children of Mikael look at each other in panic.

"Yes, I know about that," he says, pacing. "None of you are as subtle as you think you are."

Kol is the first to recover. "Because you know so much about subtlety."

It is true, Niklaus seems to take after their father the most, especially in their shared bluntness.

They bicker and try to take their minds off the screams.

It is almost morning again when Caroline is able to push out the son she has been carrying, and she is so exhausted she feels as if she might faint. She probably did.

Niklaus comes charging in as soon as he is allowed to, smiling widely as he sees his wife and his son.

"Did you choose a name?" He asks, kneeling next to the bed where she lies, holding him.

"Alvis†," she says. Her voice, despite its hoarseness, is filled with indescribable love.

"Lofty name to live up to," he says. "May I…?"

"Sure," she says, handing him over.

"Alvis Niklausson," Niklaus says, and he shakes his head disbelievingly at how this mass of flesh and life has endeared himself to him so instantaneously. "May your name live in eternity."

\---

Elijah and Niklaus' relationship, as Esther had hoped, improves drastically throughout the latter's marriage.

"Where are you going?" Caroline asks Henrik as he clambers to his feet, running after his sister.

"My brothers are fighting again," He calls over his shoulder.

"I'm assuming you don't mean Finn," she mutters, carrying Alvis carefully as she follows the youngest Mikaelson.

Elijah and Niklaus' swords flash as they fight each other, neither of them intending harm. They are both laughing, and Rebekah lets out a little shriek as the blades come close to either's skin.

Niklaus pulls a trick, feinting and then slashing, cutting off Elijah's belt. Rebekah laughs loudly, and the corner of Henrik's mouth lifts. Even Alvis lets out a gurgle, which she chooses to interpret as laughter.

"What is this waste of time?"

The change of mood is instantaneous as Mikael interrupts, smiles gone, heads lifted.

"Father, we were only having a bit of fun," Niklaus tries to explain.

"Fun? We fight to survive, and you find time for fun?" Mikael looks at Elijah expectantly, and with a look of surrender, Elijah hands over his sword.

"Teach me that trick," Mikael demands. "Come on! I want to learn how to have fun."

Hesitantly, Niklaus raises his sword.

"Don't be stupid, Niklaus," Caroline calls out. "It's not worth it."

Mikael's head whips around to her, enraged, and she is certain that the only thing saving her is the fact she is holding his grandson.

Niklaus takes the opportunity and rushes his father, and for several moments, it looks like he can hold his own, but Mikael takes him down with ease.

"Your impulse, Niklaus. That is what stops you."

Mikael gets off of him, and Niklaus gets to his feet clumsily, glaring at the ground.

"I told you before," Caroline says to him afterward as he sulks, watching Alvis. "You can't beat your father."

"I can't refuse a fight with him," he says. "That'll just make it worse. Besides, he would have told me to punish you for speaking to me that way."

"Show restraint next time," she says, sighing. "I'm going to bed. Tell me if Alvis needs anything."

"I will," he says, and spends another hour watching his son sleep, hate for his father growing in his belly. "I will never treat you the way Father treats me."

\---

The caves are their place of refuge every time the full moon rises. It's a routine they are well used to.

This full moon, however, Niklaus and Henrik are missing. Caroline worries, but with her responsibility to her son, she can hardly go out there.

But she assures herself that they must be in a different cave. After all, they just go wherever they want to. Any way they can get away from the wolves, they do. Nothing to worry about.

They leave in the morning and clean up the mess that is their village, another routine.

"Mother! Mother!"

The voice is unmistakably Niklaus', distress tearing itself from his throat.

The entire family runs outside, terror running through them.

Niklaus is holding Henrik's body, and blood covers his clothes. He is crying, scared.

Esther rushes beside him as Henrik's body is lain on the ground.

"There must be a way to save him." She says. But it is obvious to everyone but the grieving mother that the child is dead.

Niklaus is blubbering about how they wanted to see the wolves, it's all his fault,  _he's sorry_.

"No. No. No!" Esther is hysterical, crying.

Caroline can only watch in open-mouthed horror as the Mikaelson family falls apart.

She holds Alvis so that he cannot see the carnage. She cannot help but wonder, if she lost him, was this how she would react? She cannot imagine this kind of loss.

Grief turns to anger, and Mikael beats Niklaus for the death. He does resent this beating like he does the others. And the rest of the family grieves in their own way.

\---

They hold a funeral for Henrik, burning his body as their fathers' Viking custom says. They feast afterwards, a solemn affair. Grief is evident on all of the faces in the room.

Niklaus notices the wine tastes odd, metallic even, but he does not comment on it. Henrik's death weighs far too heavily on his mind, and he can hardly think of anything else, except perhaps his son. His determination not to make the same mistakes borders on obsessiveness.

They go home, and Caroline does not talk to him as they put Alvis to sleep and go to bed.

As soon as they achieve some semblance of rest- Niklaus has been getting nightmares and waking the both of them up- it all goes to Hel.

Mikael and Esther burst into their hut, startling them from sleep.

"What's going on?" Caroline asks groggily, until she sees Esther taking Alvis away and Mikael draws his sword.

"What are you doing?!" Caroline screams, rushing forward after Esther. Mikael catches her by the waist and runs his sword through her, blood flying everywhere.

"NO!" Niklaus roars, and he reaches for his sword. But Mikael has always been too fast for him, and now, somehow, he's even faster.

The sword cuts through his shirt and his flesh viciously, causing pain to shoot up and down his body. He swears he can see Father smile, and he asks, screams, "Why?"

It takes him a while to die, watching Caroline moan and bleed out, wondering why his mother would take his son. Groaning in pain as he dies.

They wake up in his family's hut, surrounded by the corpses of their family.

"What's going on?" Rebekah asked, getting up.

"What was Father doing?" Elijah asks.

Blood surrounds them.

"Alvis," Niklaus says. "Mother took him-"

"Your son is well, Niklaus," Mikael says, dragging a girl in. "Drink."

"Drink? You killed us, Father, and now there is no wound! What is this?" Kol demands.

At the mention of this, they look at their wounds, and find them gone, only slick blood.

"The ritual must be complete. Drink."

"What do you mean by drink?" Elijah asks, struggling to his feet.

Their father pushes the girl down in front of them, drawing a knife and cutting her wrist.

Their eyes darken and veins crawl down their faces, and they snarl in anticipation. But they recoil in horror at their actions.

But temptation takes them. Rebekah is the first to drink, and they all take a turn. And something is changing in them, filling them with strength and power.

They are monsters now.

\---

The entire family is stuck in the house for days, unable to speak to anyone. They are unable to see their son. It is driving them mad.

Esther gives them daylight rings, and they can walk in the sunlight for the first time in two weeks. They can visit Alvis again, though they do not touch him, for fear of their new strength. Still, they are satisfied.

But their happiness is short-lived, for Kol is the first to kill, displaying their bloodlust.

And Niklaus is the next to kill, and that displays something far more sinister.

He screams as the bones in his body break and reshape themselves.

"Niklaus!" Caroline says, rushing forward again, but she is held back by Mikael.

"Stay back!"

"He's in pain! He's your son!" She yells, watching in horror.

"He's not my son!" Mikael roared. "Don't you see what he has been turning into?"

She realizes what he means. The werewolf traits are passed down from father to son, and Mikael is no werewolf.

"Father, it hurts, it hurts," Niklaus moans, rolling around on the ground, oblivious to this newfound hatred.

"No," Caroline says, unable to do anything.

"Run," Mikael says, pushing her.

She runs with her new speed to her home, sobbing. How had this happened? They had started to be truly happy. But they are monsters, unable to even touch their son. She has always had good self-control, but she cannot take any risks. Not with him. She cries over his cradle, holding her hand out, craving the contact.

They are monsters, him even more so. What will she do now?

\---

As soon as he wakes up from his wolf form, Mikael grabs him and drags him.

"Father-" he starts.

"I am not your father," Mikael says brusquely.

Niklaus tries to fight him with his new hybrid strength, but Mikael has always been too strong for him. But what hurts the most is when Elijah begins to tie him up the cross in the middle of what he knows to be a spell.

"Please don't do this," he begs, trying to get Elijah to look at him. His brother pauses, and hope swells in him, but with a barked order from their mother-  _Mother, how could you?_ \- he continues.

Betrayal cuts deep into him as Mother begins chanting, fire blossoming at the torches around the circle.

He feels like something is being ripped from him, like strength being torn from his body.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Caroline protesting, being crippled by Mother's magic. He lets out a weak groan of protest, but screams as the pain reaches the very core of his being.

He feels like he is being torn apart.

He hears his siblings hunting the werewolf pack, and his wolf side weeps for his could-be family, but that side is fading, bound by magic.

By the time he wakes up, it is gone completely.

He is weak from the hybrid ritual, but Caroline helps him up so that they may go back.

"Alvis-"

"With Rebekah," she says. "Let us go home, Niklaus."

"You will go home with the bastard son of a werewolf?"

"Who is dead," Caroline reminded him.

Niklaus is quiet as they walk home through the woods, no longer afraid of anything it contains. But that sullenness quickly turns to panic as they find Rebekah on the floor of their hut, neck broken at an unnatural angle.

"Bekah!"

She wakes up suddenly. "Alvis! They took him, gods, gods, gods no."

That is enough for the two parents to go speeding off, cold pits sinking in their stomachs even as they move like blurs.

It does not take long for them to find their son.

"Kill the demon child!" The villagers chant, holding up their son, and the world becomes still for a moment.

Then the knife comes down, stabbing into the infant's body, sending his blood flying. The baby does not even cry. Both parents can only look on as their child dies in the arms of a crowd that wants to rip them apart.

Is this what Esther felt like? Caroline thinks, when she saw his corpse, did she feel that kind of anger, that kind of desperation?

Caroline's world turns red as she rips into the villagers, no longer caring about the  _sanctity_  or the  _purity_  of human life, for how can something pure do something like this, kill her son? Her son, a child, who they called a demon, though he was as human as the rest of them? Now they are just dead.

Niklaus- no, he is Klaus now- is robbed of his wolf, but he still feels anger more keenly than anyone else in his family, and he is not angry. He is beyond furious, beyond livid, the indescribable pain of losing a child and the vicious satisfaction of having the killers in front of you, weaker than you.

They are two blurs, ripping off heads and biting into necks, reveling in blood flow the way only vampires can, for that is what they are.

So this is how Esther finds them.

The huts are all burned down, the people are strewn everywhere, drained of blood, and the two of them holding their dead son. Blood is painted over every surface of their former home.

"Niklaus," she breathes in shock. She is now surer than ever of her conviction that they must be erased.

"You!" Her son speeds over to her, but she barely flinches. This is her son; he wouldn't hurt her.

"You took my wolf side, you made me  _weak_! And now my son is dead."

"He is dead because you were monsters." she says calmly.

"My son is dead because you turned me into one." But Niklaus makes no move towards her, no indication of a threat.

"I did no such thing. I gave you power, but-"

She can no longer speak, for Caroline has a hand through her back, squeezing her heart and pulling it from her body.

Klaus watches in shock as his mother's body drops to the ground in front of him, his wife holding her heart.

She drops the organ in disgust, wiping away at her hands.

Klaus wants to laugh hysterically at the poetry of it. Three generations of his family, dead. His mother, his brother, his son. By a vampire, by a wolf, by humans.

But poetry cannot fill the hole in his chest where his brother and son were. His mother is nothing, worthless to him.

And his siblings find them like that, surrounded by death. Their son is still just a dead baby they are crying over, and their mother is still just a heartless dead woman.

"Mother!" Rebekah cries, and Kol just stares at the corpse in open shock.

"Who did this?" asks Finn with shaking anger.

Caroline suddenly feels all too aware of her bloodstained hand. But all of them are covered in blood. But would they notice.

Niklaus thinks quickly, lying through his teeth. "Father. He says she broke his heart, so he'd rip out hers."

Their collective hatred of Mikael grows as they bury their mother and the child, promising to stay together "Always and forever." The vow takes new meaning now that it is literal.

They burn down the ash tree together, watching it with cold eyes.

They begin their long journey, running for a thousand years. Their son is never far from their minds. The secrets, the lies, the betrayal. Caroline stays by his side through it all. They keep nothing from each other, they are partners in this world.

\---

***Names on this show bother me- they chose Hebrew names for Nordic characters. So for this situation, I changed Caroline's father's name.**

**†I hate writing birth scenes because they always get things wrong, so I decided to skip that**

**‡Alvis= "all-wise"**


	2. Chapter 2

**One thousand years later…**

Caroline and Klaus get a call from Elijah in the year 2010 while they lie asleep in London. They've spent five years here. They get up as soon as the phone rings; a millennium on the run has made them light sleepers.

"What is it, brother?" Klaus asks, picking up the phone, not even bothering to get up or get dressed. "This had better be important."

"The doppelganger," Elijah says, and that is enough to get both their attentions.

"Are you sure?" Caroline asks, rolling over to face Klaus. They exchange quick glances, a conversation through glares and eyebrow lifts.

"I saw her," Elijah says. "I spoke with her."

"Then that's all I need, Elijah," He hangs up.

"Do you think we can trust him?" Caroline asks.

"He's my brother," Klaus says quickly, getting out of bed to get his clothes on.

"One you've kept daggered in a box multiple times," she reminds him. "He's tried to kill you before, Niklaus."

"Not really." He shrugs on a shirt. "I doubt he thought that last attempt would kill us."

"He thinks you killed our family," she tries again. "And you know how he is with all of them."

"This could be a trap," He acknowledges. "How is it even possible? I thought the bloodline was dead."

Caroline looks uneasy, but she spills the truth. "Katerina had a daughter. Out of wedlock."

Klaus' head snaps towards her. "And you didn't tell me?" He snarls.

"She had lost a child," She snaps back at him. "I could relate."

His face softens. "So you think it's worth a look, love?"

"If you're not an idiot, this can work," Caroline says. "Does that mean I have to get out of bed now?"

"Sadly so," he replies. "You have to get dressed too, which is a  _travesty,_ sweetheart."

Caroline picks up a pen from the bedside table and throws it at him end over end. He catches it before it hits his face, smiling wickedly. "You talk to the witches. You know how much they hate me."

"You should be the one to talk to the Greta girl," she says, scoffing, putting on a pair of jeans. "I think she likes you."

"It's not difficult to," he replies cockily.

"And that is why the witches don't like you," she says, shaking her head.

"Well, the feeling is mutual," he says. "We need to figure out a plan."

"You better not ruin it then," She says, pointing a finger at him. "Your impulse will be the death of us."

"We're immortal, Caroline," he says, sing-song.

"Well, since you want to become even more immortal than you already are," Caroline said. "You go. I'll meet with the witches. I imagine you'll want to approach from a distance first?"

"Body swaps would be nice, yes."

"And what exactly will my role be in this ingenious plan, eskelde*?"

"How do you feel about going to high school?"

"Oh, the things I do for you," she says. "High school? Seriously?"

"You're going to be a distraction," he says, shrugging. "And we both know you're very good at that."

"You are lucky that I'm willing to do this," she said. "You owe me."

"I'll thank you later."

\---

_England, 1492_

"Do you have any idea how irritating it is to watch her fawn over you?" Caroline asks bitterly. They speak in their native tongue- these English people definitely would not understand Norse. She hates having to imitate accents, unlike Niklaus, who seems to pick those up with ease wherever they travel.

"I'm not actually going to marry her," Klaus says while trying to look at himself in the mirror. "Polygamy's not my style."

"It better not be," Caroline said warningly. "Just because I'm stuck in this place doesn't mean I won't maim her when I have the chance." She's been stuck in the town since Katerina has come to town, to make Klaus look as eligible as possible. She's only been able to visit Klaus in extreme secrecy, with plenty of compulsion involved.

"Just don't kill her before the ritual, and that will be perfect." Klaus says. "Do I look reasonably gentlemanly?"

"I'll enjoy watching you suck the life out of her," she says. "And yes, that looks good. Which is incredibly annoying."

"I'm going to go to the market with Katerina," he says, "so it would probably be best for us if you avoided that."

"She's trying to get with Elijah, too." Caroline spins around, mouth open. "Do you think that doppelgangers try to wreck your relationship or it just an instinctual thing?"

"I don't feel anything for Katerina, therefore, she cannot get between Elijah and me," Klaus reasons with her.

"Elijah doesn't seem to think that way," she says. "Don't even try to act oblivious about it, you know he likes her."

"She does seem to be his normal type," Klaus admits.

"Since when has Elijah had a type?" Caroline says, snorting. "I thought he just fell in love in whatever circumstance possible."

"I meant doppelgangers," he says. "But he'll get over it. I did."

Caroline smiles a little at that. "Go to the market then, I won't get in your way," she says. "Still, don't expect me to forgive this idiotic strategy when this is done."

"My wife, always there to point out my flaws," Klaus says sarcastically.

"The reason why you've lived this long, really," she says cheekily.

\---

_Mystic Falls, 2010_

Caroline gets two witches, and has another three on call just in case. She has several werewolf packs located and pinned on maps in their room. She has a stellar background story set up, first posing as a human, and then one as a recently turned vampire in case there are any vampires in the area who can tell the difference.

Klaus shakes his head proudly. His wife is the consummate planner, and while he is diabolical like no other, he knows that Caroline is the one that ensures most of his plans follow through, not to become victims to his recklessness.

Elijah has not called back, and Klaus has no idea what that means. But he does know where he was.

Mystic Falls. Their former home. Really, filled with nasty memories. He'd rather not return to it.

Caroline has the exact same reasons not to want to return to that place, but she goes anyway. After all, they're both on a mission.

From what he's heard from her, she's already established herself in the school, gaining herself quite the following. Her purpose was to be a distraction, she more than did that job.

 _That's my girl,_  he thinks proudly.

If he is to perform the ritual, he must have the materials. He lost track of the moonstone once Katerina stole it. No doubt she knows where it is. The doppelganger is exactly where she needs to be, in her place of birth. The three sacrifices should not be too difficult to obtain, except the werewolf.

But he has contacts. Isobel, her name is. The doppelganger's biological mother, what a turn of events. But more importantly, she knows Katerina.

Katerina has always wanted freedom from his family- that has never been in doubt. But was is she offering him? After all, that is all he wants to know.

"Katherine can get you the doppelganger and the moonstone."

"Now you're talking, love," he says, fixing himself a drink. He finds amusement in the way the young vampire shifts on her feet, as if getting ready to bolt. No wonder Katerina likes her, they are so similar.

"And the werewolf?"

"There was a werewolf line here, but he left town."

"Well, that doesn't help me, now does it?" He says, gesturing with his glass. "Now, get me that, and I just might stop thinking about how I want to kill her."

Isobel nods quickly, and turns to go, but he is faster. She made a mistake by meeting with him in person.

He compels her to find a body for him. He doesn't care which, but he does hope it is that it is of decent form. He won't spend a long time in it, anyway.

"Oh, and kill yourself after it's done, any way you like," he says as an afterthought. "I don't need any loose ends."

\---

Caroline takes the time to worm her way into the doppelganger's social circle, which honestly does not take much effort. They are so trusting, these people. She has a tougher time imitating the American accent.

She is glad that she came prepared. She spouts her human story to the rest of the school, but then she meets the Salvatores.

She remembers Stefan from Chicago, obviously. She nearly blurts out his name in greeting, but stops herself. She did not survive this long because of impulse. That was Niklaus.

Still, with them, she spouts a different story she's prepared, a sob story about she was turned against her will and now roams wherever she can. They eat it up. Perhaps because they have different problems.

Namely, the fact that Damon eyes Elena like a piece of meat, even in front of his brother.

Caroline finds that the doppelganger- Elena- is almost completely unremarkable. She is a pretty girl, yes, but other than the fact that she looks like two people Caroline has already know, there is nothing that would make her stand out to anyone else.

The Salvatores have something else to say on the matter. They adore her, willing to do so much for her. So if she's a distraction, she thinks that Elena's doing that enough on her own.

There's another girl in the group, April, who seems more like sidekick than friend. Honestly, she sympathizes with her more than Elena.

However, she still has one more problem. Katerina.

"I heard you have a vampire stuck somewhere," she says casually.

"Yeah, Katherine," Elena says nonchalantly. "We stuck her in the tomb."

"Where she belongs, in everyone's opinion," Damon says. She wonders if everything he says has to have an edge to it.

"Mind if I see her?" Caroline asks. "I mean, I've never seen such an old vampire before."

"Well, Damon is a hundred seventy years old," Elena says. "Old man."

Caroline wants to laugh out loud. As if a hundred seventy years is an accomplishment.

"Besides, I want to help you," she says earnestly. "I mean, the oldest vampire in history is coming after you, don't you think you need as much help as you can get?"

Technically wrong. Mikael was the oldest vampire. But saying that means divulging information and breaking her cover. And she is better than that.

"I don't know why anyone wants to spend time with her," Damon muttered.

"He's just bitter that she strung him along for a hundred fifty years. If you want to," Elena says, and Caroline blesses her naïveté to the gods.

"Let's go then," she says, flouncing, "I want to see this bitch."

Elena takes her to the cemetery. She remembers it as the place where she used to play as a child, how ironic. An old, burned-down church. She knows Katerina would never let herself get captured in a place like this. It must be a spell.

"She's in there," Elena says. "Don't go in with her, it's spelled to keep vampires in."

Clever. While her husband hates witches and underestimates them, she has always been wary of their finicky ways. And Bennett witches in particular have always had a special hatred for the Originals.

But this is one enemy at a time. She walks behind Elena, keeping out of her line of sight. She needs to make sure Katerina doesn't make it clear that she recognizes her.

Katerina looks as high maintenance as ever in her haughty expression, but she looks tired. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she jogs in place to relieve her boredom.

Caroline puts her finger on her lips as Katerina looks over at her. 'Not yet,' she mouths.

Katerina gets the message.

"Who's the newbie, Elena?" She makes it clear she does not appreciate the other doppelganger.

"Caroline," she says, adding a superiorly frosty tone to her voice, as though from a moral high ground. Elena seems to like that kind of stuff. "Forbes."

Oh how she longed for the days where she could introduce herself as Brandrsdottir. Even Mikaelson, that hated name. But Forbes will have to do for now.

"Leave, Elena," Katerina says, bored. "No one wants you here."

Elena gets an affronted look before huffing and leaving. Once they can hear her footsteps fade away, Caroline starts laughing.

"Gods, you doppelgangers are all the same." She smiles cruelly at Katerina. "Is it just instinctual for you guys to get between brothers? I've always wanted to ask."

"Just get to the point, Caroline, you can't be here just to gloat."

"Yes, that's Niklaus' style. I came to ask you to keep your mouth shut as to my actual age."

"And what's in it for me?"

"You always ask that question, you are so predictable," Caroline says, sighing. "I will get you your freedom from this place. And I'll give you protection from Niklaus when he comes to town. You know that if anyone can convince him to, it's me."

"Alright," Katerina says. "I'll bite. I'll keep your secret."

"I knew I could count on you," Caroline says, turning to go. "Oh. And if you take this opportunity to attempt to get revenge, you will not have to worry about Niklaus. You'll have to worry about me."

"As if I'm that stupid." Katerina says, smirking.

That's what Caroline has always liked about this girl. A good sense of self-preservation. Honestly, she is the doppelganger she's had the most goodwill for.

\---

_England, 1492_

She runs into her worst nightmare by chance in the market, Niklaus is not with her.

"My lady," she says, moving aside for the richly dressed girl. She can smell Niklaus all over her, and that makes her nostrils flare.

Katerina completely ignores her in favor of a wild brown-haired girl running through the streets. Her eyes are soft as she hands the girl bread.

"May I ask why you are doing that, my lady?" Caroline asks curiously. "A lady of your stature should not be here."

Katerina hesitates. Caroline wonders if she can get away with compelling her in the middle of the street. She decides against it. The bloodsucking just be enough to get attention, and there is no way she was going to make it worse.

"Can you keep a secret?" Katerina asks. "One woman to another?"

"No one would believe me if I told anyone, my lady," she replies.

"I had a child, out of wedlock," the girl admits.

Caroline looks around. "Do not say it so loudly!" She hisses. "Come back to my house, we can talk there."

Katerina is trusting, there is no denying that. Caroline envies that, but she knows the world is much crueler to those people.

They walk to the streets back to the hovel where Caroline is living. She has lived in castles before, in palaces. But she grew up in a hut- she can handle this.

"So, please, tell me your story," Caroline says, sitting down at a table.

"I was born in Bulgaria to the Petrova family," she says. "It was an old blooded family, we came into money centuries ago."

Niklaus' doing, and her idea. To make the doppelganger line that much more visible. She was glad to see it worked.

"I was...very loose, sexually, and I got pregnant. My father took the child away from me. I never got to see her face. So whenever I see a child with brown hair..."

Caroline is silent. She realizes that she's done the same thing. She envisions Alvis grown up, with Niklaus' hair and her eyes, her sharp tongue and his biting glare. A strong child. She has spared people for looking like this vision of him. Let them go because their green eyes look vaguely like his, allowed them to live because their hair falls to their shoulders the way she imagined her son's would.

She actually feels empathy for the girl- they have both lost a child. It is something absolutely unforgettable. She has no doubt that child will be the thought in her final moments as Niklaus drains the blood from her.

"I know how you feel," she says quietly.

Katerina looks up, and Caroline takes the opportunity.

"You will forget we ever had this conversation," she says, her eyes dilating. "You were at the market and gave some bread to a girl. I was just getting out of your way. Return home."

Katerina's take on a glazed look as she repeats the instructions mindlessly. She walks out of the house, and Caroline feels an almost regret that she has to die.

\---

_Mystic Falls, 2010_

Niklaus takes the body of the history teacher who is also a vampire hunter.

It fits him well, though the clothing is most certainly not his choice. The voice is distinctly American, so he won't have to imitate any accents.

He walks into the classroom, not even trying to imitate the steady gait of the hunter. He winks at Caroline before strolling past, holding his hands behind his back. He knows Caroline will recognize him by his mannerisms, after all, he's done this before.

He scans over the classroom. Mostly insignificant. But he sees Stefan Salvatore at a desk, looking ahead studiously.

Ripper. How he'll enjoy being around him again.

But his eyes are on the true prize. The doppelganger sits in the desk next to Stephan's, throwing a smile at him. He smiles back. He has what he wants, where he wants it. His plan- their plan- is coming together.

All it takes is a minute cough from Caroline to get him to snap out of it.

"History," he says, prowling in front of the room. "What are we studying?"

"We've been studying the sixties because of the decade dance," one of the students speaks up.

No doubt with Caroline at the head. "Yes, the sixties. Not much good came out of that decade." he tries to remember. "Moon landing, Kennedy assassination, Cuban Missile Crisis, Civil Rights," he gestures with his hands, trying to come up with something. "That Watergate thing."

"Watergate was the seventies, Alaric," The doppelganger calls out.

"Yes, well," he gestures at his temple. "The decades all run together after a while."

Caroline stays behind after class, making up some excuse about getting something from the hunter. She speeds up to his desk.

"Are you insane, Niklaus?" she hissed. "You are acting nothing like the man."

"Well, I couldn't exactly ask him as Maddox implanted me in his brain, now could I?"

"First step is not to stare creepily at the doppelganger, eskelde."

"Looking at her is not creepy."

"Sure. Here," she says, shoving a thick stack of notes at him. "Notes on them and on Alaric. You had better follow them, because if not, your cover's blown real quickly."

He flips through the notes casually. "Don't you have a class to get to?"

"By the way, you can't touch Katerina, at least not for a while."

His head snaps up from a description of Alaric's speech patterns. "Why?"

"Because I made a deal. She won't talk about me, and you won't touch her while you're here."

"You strike a hard bargain. I can't promise I won't be tempted."

"You still owe me for this, Niklaus," she said. "If I have to hear about Elena from either Salvatore one more time, I will claw my own heart out."

"Don't make that kind of promise, you'll have to go through with it." He says. "Go to class, waiting too long is suspicious."

"They trust me," she said. "And now, they trust you. Don't ruin it."

\---

_England, 1492_

Elijah puts a chest down on the table, opening it to reveal several vials.

"What's that?" Niklaus asks, not really caring.

"It is a way to save the doppelganger from death," Elijah says briskly, examining one of them.

"Don't tell me you've come to care for the girl," Klaus says scornfully. "It is our greatest weakness. We do not love, we do not care."

"Hypocrite," Elijah says.

"Excuse me?"

"Caroline," Elijah says. "You tell me not to love anyone outside the family. And yet- you love her."

Klaus scowls, but does not deny. "Caroline is as much my family as the rest of you."

"Considering what you two do at night, I don't think you are family."

"She has been with me longer than any of you," Klaus reminds him. "And besides, I am not technically your family." His bastard status has always dug under his skin.

Elijah turns over the vial in his hands. "I will still attempt to save her life, Niklaus."

"It matters not whether the doppelganger lives or dies," Klaus says dismissively, "The ritual will take place. Whatever you do afterwards is not my concern." He stares at the fire, envisioning the ritual. The fire, the feeling of his dormant wolf rising again.

"I will have won."

\---

***eskelde=dear/love**

**Thank you to Angelikah for being my first reviewer! And xxGoddessofLovexx for being the first to favorite! It is much appreciated, keep it coming. I would love to get feedback.**

**By the way, you'll notice that Caroline holds on to how she was as a human, much like on the show. I'm modelling thousand year old Caroline like her emotionless self on the show, because I'd expect she'd change a lot in that millennia, but obviously, with my characterization.**

**Also, April is not a replacement for Caroline. Each character is their own, with their own roles to play. This plot will only loosely follow that of the show's, though I will follow each season's "Big Bad," so to speak.**

**-PhoenixCycle**


	3. Chapter 3

He spends several days in Alaric's body, in his life. It's not something he enjoys, and teaching teenagers history is dull. Why anyone on this earth would choose to do such a thing is beyond him. And since he’s forced to interact with Damon Salvatore on a far too regular basis, he wonders if it would be a favor to just put the man out of his misery.

Nonetheless, he does follow Caroline's notes diligently- after all, neither of them are strangers to taking roles or lying. She’s doing her part, he’s doing his.

He’s in the middle of grading papers. Again, not something he enjoys, but something he has to do. Honestly, he is appalled with the state of writing these days. These kids’ writing- it’s so formulaic it makes his head spin. He can remember reading letters from lords and princes and kings, filled with poetry, perfectly poised. Though he supposes nothing compares to simply getting your point across. As he reaches for the next stack, his phone rings, and he picks it up, pitching Alaric's voice just right as he says "Hello?"

"They're already trying to kill you, eskelde," Caroline says. Music is playing loudly in the background. She must be at the Salvatore House, where she has been able to snag a room. And someone must be there.

"Well, that's faster than normal." he comments. Though he’s not surprised. The Damon boy seems quite invested in his brother’s girl. An interesting development. He can use that. However, he is surprised that Alaric has been kept out of it as long as he has. He assumed incorrectly that they would want every bit of backup they could get. However, this kind of arrogance works in his favor, so he’s not complaining.

"Yeah, well, they think they're safe," she says. "Elena owns the Salvatore House now, you can't get in in your body."

"But you can?" He deduces.

"I can get almost anywhere here," she says. "Besides, they gave me a room, I couldn’t exactly refuse."

"So how exactly are they trying to kill me?" He asks. “They haven’t exactly given Alaric all the details.”

"They think that if their witch channels enough power they'll be able to do it," she says. “But what she’s kept from the others is that she’ll die from the effort. She’s told Jeremy, but no one else.”

"So have her kill me in this body," he says. "Burn her out."

“Do you really think killing you will take that much power?” She asks. “We need her dead, out of the way.”

“Well, would you like me to remind you that we’re immortal, love?”

“You’re going to, anyway,” she says. “Well, since we’re doing this, the decade dance is as good a time as any.”

"Any reason why you want to jump the gun?"

"Full moon's coming soon," she says. "Might as well get out of it as fast as you can and prepare."

"I don't know, I kind of like this body."

"Well, I prefer the original model.” She says, and he can imagine the way her hips would pop to the side and the fake-serious look she sends even if he can’t see it. “I'm calling in your body from London. Do you want me to bring the other coffins too?"

"Can't lose track of those," He says. "Bring them here."

"By the way, once the witch dies, Katherine will be free to go from the tomb. What are you going to do?"

"Well, you did say I couldn't touch her, sweetheart, and your wish is my command," he says.

"She'll try to barter for her freedom," she says.

"Then let her try. Though I suppose I can't do that in this body now can I? It’s not a threatening one."

"So you are going to the decade dance."

"Were you giving me a choice, love?"

"Nope," she says cheerfully. Honestly, it's amazing what they let each other get away with. "So are you ready for some fear tactics?"

"Let's see how much it will take to scare them," he says in reply. "Do you think I should start big, or will subtlety be our modus operandi this time around?"

"I don't think you can handle subtle right now, eskelde."

"Subtle it is, then.”

\---

Caroline is in the lunchroom, trying to tune everyone else out. She tries to seem engaged in whatever Elena is talking about at the moment, but honestly, she couldn't care less. However, she is well-practiced in acting.

"Hey, Elena!" a girl Caroline has never met walks up to them, smiling.

"Hey, Heather," Elena replies. Caroline files away the name for future reference.

"So, there's this new kid at school, he's totally hot, and he asked me to ask you to the dance." Caroline begins to tune her out. Just another boy falling for Elena Gilbert. "His name is Klaus."

Elena and Bonnie gasp sharply; Caroline has to stifle a laugh to imitate them.

"I know, weird name. But I promise, he's cute. And he asked for you to save the last dance, isn't that sweet?"

"I think you can stop talking now," Caroline says, playing the protective friend and pushing Heather away. She turns to Elena and Bonnie. "So Klaus is going to be at the dance tonight?" It is so strange, calling him Klaus. Her husband will always be Niklaus to her.

"I'll get Alaric and Damon to chaperone," Elena says. "They'll hold him off while Bonnie takes him out."

Caroline, for her part, is having a rather difficult time trying not to laugh or smile. What will Damon do against Niklaus? But she nods along seriously, pretending that yes, this is a plausible idea. She is not going to ruin the plan.

"So, that's it?" She asks. "What if it doesn't work?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what if Bonnie can't do it?" She asks. If she can derail the plan entirely, then that makes things so much cleaner. And she likes clean plans.

"I can do it," Bonnie assures her, and she sounds so confident for a second she forgets it's a lie. “Besides, Klaus doesn’t know I have magic.”

“Well, what if I do this?” Caroline’s hand moves in a blur towards the witch’s neck. An aneurysm rips through her head, and she flinches at the suddenness, her head flicking to the side as if she had been slapped.

“He won’t be able to touch me,” Bonnie says, her jaw set.

"Are you sure you can channel so much power?" she asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

"The witches from the burn site want Klaus dead as much as we do," Bonnie assures her. "We'll be fine."

Elena nods, not aware of what Bonnie is risking, and that is that. For now. Caroline lets them enjoy this last day together. After all, she’s given that favor plenty of times before.

\---

_England, 1492_

“Elijah,” Caroline says, getting up in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I was taking Katerina out into the town,” her brother-in-law says. “Before…”

“Tonight.” she finishes his sentence. “I know.”

“I simply do not understand why Niklaus is so callous to Katerina’s plight,” Elijah says, pacing. “Is he really so far gone?”

“The wolf is part of him,” She says. “We need to get it back.”

“You refer to his purpose as yours,” Elijah notes.

“I’m the one who stayed with him all these years,” Caroline reminds him. “I’m the one who knows how much the wolf means to him.” She swallows. “He thinks becoming a wolf will protect us from Mikael.”

“Mikael is a threat, no doubt, but this is obsession.”

“Like your pathological fondness for the doppelgangers?” Elijah looks sharply at her. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” She gets up. “Now, believe me, I pity the girl for more reasons than you know, but the ritual will happen.”

“You would hold his life over this innocent girl’s?” Elijah asks incredulously.

“We’ve all killed when it’s suited us Elijah, don’t act as if you have the higher ground here.” Caroline crosses her arms over her chest, making eye contact. “I know you’ve found a way to bring her back.”

“And if the elixirs do not work?”

“Then another human life will be lost, trampled under the feet of a thousand yet to come,” she says. “What are we to do about the inevitability of their deaths?”

“You sound remarkably like him,” Elijah says, and with that, he turns to go. “I will find Katerina, and give her this last day of peace. If you’ll excuse me.”

“A pleasure as always, Elijah,” she calls to him, struck by his tone as he compares her to his brother. “Keep her alive until tonight, will you?”

She will defend Niklaus with her dying breath, but Elijah is right. This is an obsession. One they have worked on for five hundred years of their immortal lives. And will all be worth it by tonight.

\---

_Mystic Falls, 2010_

The house is empty, which means free conversation with each other.

“Seriously?” She bursts out, shutting the door to her room behind her. One of the only benefits in this body, as Alaric, is that he can get into this house without anything looking out-of-place.

“You didn’t enjoy Heather’s little show?” He asks innocently.

“I just wanted to hear you say ‘cute,’” She says in her normal voice, leaning her head against her the door, shaking her head with laughter. “You should have seen their faces. Gods, at the sound of your name they just looked like someone would fall down dead.”

“I trust you didn’t laugh. I think that would ruin the effect.” He replies, approaching her.

“I’m the actress here, not you,” Caroline reminds him. “And what effect are you speaking off, exactly?”

“Why, the effect you have on people,” he says, placing his forehead against hers. “Even me.” His hands go up her sides, thumbs brushing her breasts.

She lets out a little sigh, but as he goes in for the kiss, she stops him. “You know I hate it when you do that in another body.”

“Well, more incentive, then,” he says, leaning back, putting his hands behind his back, the way he does when he doesn’t know how to use them in a non-threatening manner. “Did you get the coffins?”

“Should arrive by tonight,” she confirms. “Just in time for the dance. I texted you the address. You know the plan, yes?”

“Wouldn’t dare forget it,” he says.

“Just make sure Maddox is at the ready,” she says, “In case something goes wrong. And Greta will be at the warehouse to do the spell.”

“And if the witch doesn’t kill this body?”

“Even better,” she says. “And once the ritual is done I can get out of this Salvatore-doppelganger love triangle hell-hole.”

“I don’t know how you do it, love,” he says, shaking his head. He’s been watching Damon brood and drink over Elena for a week, and he is quickly losing patience.

“I’m just that amazing.” She goes over to the desk and sits on top of it. The desk, is of course, perfectly organized. He’s not surprising.

“That you are,” he says.

“You’re too kind, eskelde,” she says.

“You might be the only person to ever say that to me,” He says lightly.

The door to the house opens and closes, and they fall silent. Klaus leaves the room as silently as he can, taking up the guise of Alaric again.

“Well, we have a dance to chaperone,” he says to Damon as he walks past, injecting the right amount of sarcasm in.

“Well, Klaus will be there, so expect some entertainment.”

“Are you seriously going to say that this is entertaining?” Klaus asks, thinking this is something Alaric would say.

“Well, it’s going to be.” Damon says, shrugging.

Klaus sighs with Alaric’s lungs and screws his eyes shut the way Alaric would, but on the inside, he is agreeing.

\---

The dance is a tacky affair, old songs blasting from speakers and teenagers flailing in uncoordinated masses, simply wanting contact with each other. But for those who know what a battlefield this will be are on edge.

Caroline dances in the crowd, but maintains a faintly suspicious disposition. After all, wouldn’t want them to think she was being too casual, would she?

“I can’t spot anyone new in this crowd,” Elena says, frantic.

“Then where is he?” Caroline asks, mimicking the panic.

“This song is dedicated to…Elena Gilbert,” The kid at the speakers says, and the band starts singing. “By Klaus.”

The terror on Elena’s face is obvious even as the spotlight shines on her, she barely bothers to hide it. Damon is moving through the crowd towards her, and Caroline can see Niklaus smirking. He makes a swift exit through the doors and keeps them open- an invitation.

Bonnie follows after him, thinking that Alaric has found something, but Elena stays behind. Still in the dark, she sees. She continues to dance, entertaining some boy as she rubs against him flirtingly. She keeps an eye on Elena, hoping that she will stay out of the way. They need her intact.

Jeremy is walking up to Elena and speaking quickly. From the worried look on Elena’s face and the way they both hurry off, the brother has spilled the beans. She has to follow them.

She pushes off the next guy to try and dance with her in favor of going after them, plastering on a concerned look.

“Alaric?” Elena calls out to his back. “Did you find something?”

“You know,” Niklaus says, turning around. “I severely overestimated my acting skills. Or perhaps your knowledge of the man.”

The realization dawns on their faces quickly.

“Klaus,” Elena breathes out.

“Right on target, love,” Niklaus says, striking a sarcastic pose.

A twist of Bonnie’s hand, and he crumples, his kneecap shattered. He screams out in pain, and Caroline has to restrain herself from snapping Bonnie’s neck. _This is part of the plan_ , she reassures herself. _He’ll be fine_. She is obviously a big threat, and she should be taken out as quickly as possible. This is the time.

Still, Niklaus’ bones snap and crack and Bonnie throws him through glass cases and into the empty cafeteria. She locks herself in, the lunchroom becoming a hurricane of sparks and flying papers. Caroline can hear Niklaus’ screams through the door, and it takes every ounce of her monumental self-control not to charge ahead. Elena has no such self-control.

“Bonnie!” Elena screams, banging on the doors with all of her pitiful human strength. “Bonnie!”

The witch turns around, blood flowing freely from her nose, before collapsing. The spells on the doors break, and even Elena is able to push through them, kneeling over her friend. Caroline lingers behind, muttering under her breath, “Push me up against the wall.”

Niklaus tilts his head in response, but speeds ahead, pushing her up against the wall, their faces half an inch apart.

“Caroline!” Elena yells as well, sounding devastated, and Caroline thinks for a moment, _oh look, she cares._

“Now snap my neck and take me to the warehouse where the coffins are,” she says into Niklaus’ ear.

“I’m not going to snap your neck, Caroline,” he says.

“Do it,” she says, letting her vampire features drop, snarling at him. “And put on a show.”

He does it quickly, so that he can’t change his mind at the last second. He knows she’ll give him hell after this. He smiles ferociously at the doppelganger as she screams, her life falling apart around her. Then he leaves in a blur, carrying Caroline’s limp body with him.

\---

_England, 1492_

She runs her hand over the coffins. One for Finn, one for Rebekah. One, spelled shut, for Esther. And another, smaller than the rest, and much more elaborately carved.

Niklaus was an artist long before he was a killer, and no amount of effort was spared on this carving. Their son’s name is carved into the wood in runes, and the rest of the panels are covered in knots and spirals. At each of the corners a stylized dragon, like the ones on her father’s ships, looks down.

 _Perhaps, after tonight, we can free the rest of them_ , she thinks, brushing her fingers over the familiar runes. _But not you. Never you._

She hears Niklaus roaring from the castle above. He’s angry.

Her brow scrunches in confusion. He was supposed to be getting ready for the ritual. Why hasn’t he?

She makes her way up, resolving to compel anyone who interferes because of her perceived station. Something can’t have gone wrong.

“What the Hel have you done?” She asks Niklaus, seeing him holding up Elijah.

He drops his brother, and she can practically see the steam rising from his ears.

“The doppelganger is gone,” he says, and he is frowning, the only way he can keep himself from screaming as he had before. “Elijah told her what was going to happen and she escaped.”

“What?!” She asks, looking at Elijah in shock. “What do you mean she escaped? You can track her down, can’t you?”

“She’s been turned into a vampire,” Niklaus says, his face screwed up, his infamous rage roiling under the surface. “Her blood is useless now, and the line is ended with her.” He turns to his brother furiously. “All because you can’t just trust that _my plan_ WOULD WORK!”

“NIKLAUS!” She bellows. “Elijah wouldn’t tell her, he already had a plan! It was someone else. The boy who brought her in, he fancied her, he probably got her out.”

“Is this true?” Niklaus asks Elijah, pointing a shaking finger at him. “Take care with your words, brother.”

“It wasn’t me,” Elijah says, shaking his head.

“Then we will track her to the ends of the earth,” Klaus says. “I have waited too long for this damn curse to be broken. She will be punished for it.”

There have been very few times where Caroline has truly been unaware of what her husband was about to do. But this was quite possibly the most volatile she’d ever seen him. She has no idea whether he’ll kill or feed or rant or storm out.

Instead, he plans.

\---

_Mystic Falls, 2010_

The address where the coffins are being kept is a warehouse a half an hour west of Mystic Falls. By the time he gets there, Caroline is already stirring in the front seat of the car.

“That hurts like Hel,” she says, rolling her shoulders.

“Any particular reason why you wanted me to do that?” He asked brusquely.

“Well, I’m here to make sure that Greta girl doesn’t screw anything up, and this is the only way that doesn’t seem suspicious.” She cracks her neck.

“You’re mad,” he says, shaking his head.

“Said the psychopathic killer,” she says, kissing him on the cheek. “Let’s get you back in your body and can do more than that.” She opens the door and swings her legs out before jumping onto the ground.

He speeds out of the car and finds Greta already there, setting up the spell. She smiles wickedly as she looks at him seductively through her eyelashes. “Nice body. Ready to get back into your old one?”

Caroline looks at him out of the corner of her eye, and he smirks. “Practically begging, love.”

Caroline scoffs. “Get in the chair, Niklaus.”

He sits, and she begins to tie him up so that when Alaric wakes he will not be able to escape. They wheel Niklaus’ body into the room and set it upright. Niklaus’ temporary coffin is utilitarian- he has never even bothered making one for her or him. It’s battered- he hasn’t had to use it in a while.

“Go ahead,” she says to Greta, “Get it done.”

Greta seems reasonably cowed before she begins to chant the spell, her hands on either of Alaric’s head. It is a long chant, but it is one Caroline has seen done many times, by a variety of witches. She knows when it’s being done right.

Alaric groans as he regains consciousness, and the lid for the box opens, revealing the body she knows and loves.

Niklaus quirks an eyebrow. “Like me now, love?”

“Now that’s more like it, eskelde,” Caroline says, pulling him down for a long kiss.

\---

**Can I just say it is super hard to describe Klaus’ facial expressions? Joseph Morgan, WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO ME?**

**Honestly, season two’s not my favorite, but it’s almost over, anyway. So we’ll soon get to see more Originals, hurrah! I’m definitely going to start deviating more from the canon, so be prepared for that.**

**-PhoenixCycle**


	4. Chapter 4

Caroline leaves the warehouse in the morning, dragging Alaric with her. She has no worries about him, she has compelled him to follow her story. She steals a car and makes it back to Mystic Falls, making herself look properly disheveled in the process. She cuts her skin the way she knows Niklaus would have done it, spilling blood on her clothes. She always did pay attention to detail.

Alaric wakes up slowly as she is driving. She had hoped he would be unconscious when she returned, but she has to think on the fly.

“You should let me give you blood,” she says to him.

“No, I’m fine,” He says, groaning.

“Or would you rather one of the Salvatores do it?” She asks, looking at him knowingly. Damon would be focused on preventing the ritual, and Stefan would be helping Elena through her last day.

She bites her palm and offers it to him, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. She knows that her reflexes should be enough to handle any possible accidents, anyway.

Alaric reluctantly lets a couple drops fall into his mouth, and lets out a large sigh of relief as he begins to heal. They get out of the car and get into the house together. Their arrival is barely acknowledged except by Bonnie and Stefan. Damon is on a rampage.

Elena is missing, and so is Elijah. That means mass panic in the Salvatore house. The phone call from Elena doesn’t help either. When she says that she trusts Elijah, Caroline can see how Damon’s jaw clenches and flexes. Stefan, on the other hand, is fine. He respects Elena’s choice.

Honestly, for Caroline, Elena has only one choice, and that is Stefan. He will respect her decision even if she chooses to die. And knowing Elena, she will choose to die.

She finds out that the werewolf has returned, because his mother was injured. No doubt Niklaus’ or Maddox’s doing. She wonders how long it will take for him to be captured.

The ritual will take place soon, she knows, and all that is left is the doppelganger. But she doesn’t understand why Elijah would want to meet with her. What would he say to her? She finds out as soon as Elena returns to the Salvatore House. She gathers everyone there and spills everything to them.

“The Originals are a family?” Bonnie asks, surprised. She seems to see the Originals as a shadowy organization that roams the world, killing everyone they come across. This is mostly their fault. Their anonymity, their basis in legend and not in fact has always been their safe haven from Mikael.

“Yeah.” Elena says. “Weird to think about, huh?”

“No kidding,” Bonnie says, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, and, can you believe this? Klaus has a wife,” Elena says, laughing. “She’s an Original too.”

“How on earth,” Damon says, his face a wide-eyed look of incredulousness, “did that psycho guy get a wife?”

Caroline feels a bite of indignation. “If they’re as old as they claim to be, arranged marriages were common then. It’s probably that.”

“Well, I’d be terrified out of my mind if I had to marry that monster,” Elena says, flopping down on a couch. “I feel bad for her.”

“I’m sure she’s as strong as the rest of them were,” Stefan says. “Don’t let your sympathy for the girl stop you.”

“Well, did he say where the other Originals were?” Caroline asks. “Does Klaus have any allies?”’

“Even if we have allies, we have a deadline,” Alaric says, crossing his arms. “Klaus said the ritual will happen tonight.”

Elena seems to be preparing herself. She is willing to die, she knows it. But the doppelganger offers up new information. “It’ll be fine. I trust Elijah. He says he wants to avenge his family.”

So she had been right. The presence of the doppelganger had been a trap all along. Elijah had thought they had dropped the coffins in the sea. In a way, that he truly believed that lie hurt a lot more than it should. Did he truly believe so low of them? Apparently so.

\---

_Dublin, 2005_

They hadn’t been there for a while. But they do have an apartment Southside, and they are currently dominating the small vampire population in the country. It’s not an extremely important conquest- certainly, it’s no New Orleans or Chicago in terms of supernatural population. But it’s an entertainment, a way of enjoying the ten year respite from Mikael. Klaus is not normally happy for the presence of a Bennett witch, but in this case, he is grateful.

They meet with several leaders throughout the city, checking to make sure that none of them are even daring to attempt treason. What these people often seem to forget, even the older ones, is exactly how ancient they are. They have lived in long-gone eras where a king could do as he pleased, and treason was worse than murder. Morals have changed so often over the years that they have no qualms about theirs.

It is no secret that blood covers their hands. Him more so than her, if they are to be honest. But Caroline is not to be underestimated.

Sometimes, as a test, she goes and baits them, just to see what they will do. It does not take a while for word to spread and for her name to become infamous, just as feared as his is. A familiar pattern. He is loud displays of power and ferocity, and she is a subtle death just to make a point. They are balanced. It is what makes them a good pair, both at work and romantically.

Of course, this does not make them the most well-liked pair, though Caroline inspires much more loyalty than he does.

Still, something feels off about the certain state of affairs. The people are much too compliant. Even with the fear they’ve garnered, the Irish always have a protest to make against them.

They find out what is so wrong when they walk into their apartment to find Elijah there, surrounded by their subjects. Who are devoted to him now, by the looks of it.

“What is the meaning of this?” Klaus asks, a low, controlled growl. His head flickers from side to side, combative.

“This is for our family, Niklaus,” Elijah says, his normally calm voice carrying a tremor of rage.

“Then punish us,” Klaus says, opening his arms before letting them drop to his sides.

A brutal aneurysm rips through the both of them, and they fall to their knees, screaming and clutching at their heads. This is not the work of one witch, rather, a dozen, all of them with their arms outstretched. Elijah has always been able to negotiate with witches. Kol was the one who could do it even better, but he was currently out of commission.

Klaus fights through the pain to rip the head of one of the witches, but the pain lessens only slightly. The vampires his controlled for ten years restrain him.

“Well, you’ve beaten me, brother,” he says. “But you cannot kill me. There is only person who can do that, and you are not him. So what will you do?”

“Tell you to run,” Elijah says. “Run from this place.”

Niklaus grits his teeth, but with a sideways glance at Caroline- Elijah had put her in pain and let him converse, which was probably because he was predictable and she was not- he capitulates.

“Fine,” he says, practically spitting the word. “Take the city, take the land. We’ll leave.”

Elijah does not look fulfilled by this kind of revenge, but he takes the surrender, which is completely uncharacteristic of the former ruler of this piece of land. Elijah looks like he wants more than that, but he reassures himself that there is not much more his brother can do.

Niklaus knows that Elijah would never try to kill him.

\---

_Mystic Falls, 2010_

She goes into her room as inconspicuously as she can, closing the door and turning up the radio to blast some pop drivel. She pulls out her phone and dials; he answers on the first ring.

“They know,” Caroline says.

“What?” She knows he’s scowling, frowning.

“Elijah told them everything,” Caroline says, frustrated.

“Do they know about you?” He asks urgently.

“No, he didn’t give any names,” Caroline says, “He hasn’t seen me, thank the gods, but be careful. Have you got everything?”

“We’ve got the werewolf, and Greta’s bringing up a vampire,” Klaus affirmed. The Tyler boy would come back, he was sure of it. As far as he had gone, he would come back for his mother. That was something he could count on most people to do.

“Backups?” The wolf would bring the pack with him, and he had a special case in mind for the vampire.

“Obviously. Come on, Caroline, what did you expect from me?”

“I’m just making sure you’re not being rash,” She says. “That is what you’re known for.”

“Even if I deny that you’re going to know its true,” Klaus says. “Will Elijah be a problem?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I’ve been avoiding him, I don’t know whether he’ll be on my side. Just know that they’re going to try to save the doppelganger in any way possible. You need insurance against that. The girl’s very self-sacrificing, it won’t be difficult to manipulate.”

“Okay,” he says. “Anything else, love?”

“Place?”

“Already got that planned. There are jail cells nearby.”

“And I expect you’ll want me to fetch them for you?” She rolls her eyes. “Your debt is just piling up, Niklaus.”

Niklaus starts to say something, but she stops him.

“Someone’s coming,” she says, hanging up. She speeds over to her desk and begins to pretend to do a random piece of homework.

The door opens, and Damon walks in. “Whatcha doin’, Blondie?”

“Just some homework,” she replies, putting down her pen.

“Don’t you think this isn’t the time for schoolwork?” Damon asks.

“Is it wrong for me not to want to do something halfway?” She asks, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.

“It is when your friend’s life is in danger,” he replies hotly. “Listen, we’re getting rid of the sacrifices so that Klaus can’t perform his ritual. We’ve got Tyler, and we’re going to figure out who he’s going to use for the vampire.”

“Why not one of us?” Caroline suggests.

“You know, I don’t think he’ll choose you,” Damon says, “You see, I think he has a soft spot for you.”

“What are you talking about, I’ve never even met him.” She says.

“Now, that’s a lie,” Damon says, twirling his finger and rolling his eyes. “How did you escape?”

“He was arrogant,” she says, shrugging. “He only tied me down and stuck me with little vervain and just let me be. He was more concerned with Alaric.”

“I have to admit you’re a talented liar,” Damon says. “But see, I have sources that say otherwise. And a certain someone seems quite familiar to you.”

_Elijah. He told._

She felt a hand on her neck and heard it snap as her world went black.

\---

Klaus has already begun to settle in the empty apartment that has become his base of operations. It is certainly not as grand as he can make it, but that is hardly his biggest concern. He is about to achieve his greatest triumph.

The werewolves are his, the vampires are his, and the doppelganger is easy to manipulate, now that he has her aunt in transition. Hardly a difficult manner. All he’d had to do was visit her at that college of hers and take off that vervain trinket of hers. She hadn’t even known the importance of it, about vampires in general.

It is lucky that Damon Salvatore visits him while he is in such a good mood. He has no patience for him and his brooding.

“Damon Salvatore,” he says by way of greeting. “I’ve heard of you. Crazy guy in love with his brother’s girl.” If this child less than a fifth of his age would like to try and manipulate him, he has another thing coming.

“Klaus,” the boy replies. “So, here’s the thing. You want to do that ritual thing, and, well, I can’t let that happen.”

“I would advise you stay out of my way, lest you be crushed.” The threat is delivered in a bored way. This day is his, he doubts anything will change.

“Well, I’ve already gotten in your way,” Damon replies, shrugging. “Oops.”

Klaus tilts his head to the side, waiting for the inevitable explanation. If there’s one thing he knows about this guy is that he loves to talk.

“Dead witch,” The Salvatore says, ticking off fingers. “Escaped vampire, escaped werewolf, captured Original- now, you’ll forgive my math, but that seems to add up to a wrecked plan.”

“You’re a fool if you think capturing Elijah will become leverage against me,” Klaus said.

“Yes, that’s one Original. I think you might be slightly more invested in a certain blonde one.” Damon is smirking now, sure of his victory.

_Caroline. How did they know?_

Elijah. Anger shivers up and down his spine- soon he will be able to feel it as the wolf, that long-lost part of him. He wonders whether they are doing anything to her. Now, he knows that the doppelganger is too soft-hearted to allow torture from either Salvatore. But Elijah… despite his claims of a higher moral standard, he is still as knowledgeable in torture as the rest of them. He wants to push Damon against the wall and stake him in the gut, force him to let her go.

Instead, he shakes his head, pouring himself a drink. “I pity you, mate.”

“Any particular reason why?” Damon asks.

“Before, she was just annoyed with you. Now, she’s particularly angry with you.” This elicits no reaction from Damon. Klaus forgets that this is not Copenhagen, not London, not New Orleans or Dublin. Threatening people with each other is not going to work, because these people have no idea what the pair of them are capable of. “And, she’s always had a special hatred for doppelgangers.”

That gets Damon’s attention. Typical.

“And you are going to return those vampires and werewolves,” He says, getting up and swirling the drink.

“What about Caroline?”

“Caroline’s a given.” Klaus says, shrugging. “She’ll get out, one way or another. I would suggest you let her go to minimize bloodshed on your side.”

“Elijah tells me she’s never been daggered before,” Damon says. “We have a dagger, we can introduce her to the experience, stop her from hurting anyone.”

Klaus has always been the impatient one. “You will fulfill all of my demands.”

“Now, I really don’t see a reason why,” Damon says. He has bravado, a projection of carelessness. He really does care for that girl. Funny.

“Just a word of advice, Damon,” Klaus says, facing the Salvatore. “You don’t get to live this long without thinking ahead. So…backup witch, backup werewolf, and, you guessed it, backup vampire. And you’re going to love which one this is.” He grins. “How do you think the doppelganger will feel seeing her aunt die in front of her? She’s in transition right now.”

He can see the triumph draining from Damon’s face, which brings him an inordinate amount of pleasure.

“So you have until tonight,” Klaus says. “This ritual will happen one way or another; it’s up to you who those sacrifices will be.” He has been waiting too long for this day for it to be ruined by a half-baked plan from a man desperately in love.

Damon begins to stride angrily away, but Klaus can’t resist throwing another barb.

“You should probably get Elena comfortable, now.”

\---

“Why are you doing this?” Caroline takes extra care to add notes of whininess to her inflection. “Come on, would you trust Elijah over me?”

“I’m sorry, Caroline,” Stefan says, looking through the door. This is humiliating. It is not enough that she is in this cell, but she is restrained as well.

She drops all pretenses of her persona and returns to her normal voice. “Don’t say sorry, Stefan. I’m sorry for you, because you are just another lovesick fool caught in the doppelganger’s spell.”

Stefan just looks at her pityingly and leaves. She doesn’t want pity.

“Elijah!” Caroline snarls, struggling against the ropes that bind her. The vervain burns, but the betrayal of her brother in law infuriates her enough that it is not her primary focus. “ELIJAH!”

“Whoa, calm down, Blondie.”

She snarls like a feral animal, vampire features dropping. She does not want to see, hear, or interact with, Damon Salvatore.

“I will cut out your stomach and pour the acid down your throat,” she says, and she wishes he could understand the barrage of curses in several languages she can throw at him.

“You really didn’t seem that crazy when we took you in,” Damon says, looking mildly offended.

“I would say something along the same lines, but you’ve always seemed this crazy,” Caroline returns. “What time is it?”

“Almost time for your crazy husband’s crazy ritual,” he says.

She breathes a sigh of relief. He will still regain the wolf, as they had always dreamed.

“What on earth possessed you to marry that guy, anyway?” Damon asks, sitting down. He’s trying to bait her.

“You do not get to try to understand me,” Caroline growls. “I imagine you tried one way or another to stop the ritual.”

“Well, Elena is determined to die, so that plan’s in the trash,” Damon says, sounding dejected. Caroline wants to laugh viciously, but breathing hurts, the rise and fall of her chest rubbing up against the rope around her middle.

“How long are you going to keep me here?” Caroline asks.

“Depends on how long we need you,” Damon says, and his eyes flash with something close to anger, but not completely. “So you’re in for the long haul of pain.”

“Are you trying to out-villain the villains?” She asks, laughing painfully. Does the doppelganger make everybody lose their good judgement? “Did Niklaus tell you of our exploits? What we did to entire villages? You want to talk about being a villain, you don’t even scratch the surface.”

“Let’s see what you’ll be saying in a month.” Damon says.

“You really think you can keep me here for a month?”

Damon scoffs, but leaves, presumably to do something rash concerning the doppelganger.

As soon as he leaves, she lets her fangs emerge from her gums and begins the painful process of biting through her ropes. The burning herb mixes with her saliva, and she has to spit on the ground every few seconds, but eventually, she makes it through the ones binding her hands together. Then, she unties the ones around her middle, then her feet. She screams into her teeth as her skin is burned and repairs itself continuously, the pain enough to make any human pass out. But she is not human.

It takes several tries, but she kicks down the door, sending it crashing down to the floor. She brushes herself off, trying to regain some of her dignity.

 _I need new clothes,_ she thinks.

She hears the familiar _whoosh_ of vampire speed, but she’s faster. Damon comes up behind her, and she turns around, catching his chin in her hand before wrenching it to the side, snapping his neck. With another swift movement, she impales him through the stomach with a table, heaping plenty of heavy objects on top of it.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” she says, striding casually to her room. She changes her clothes quickly- that’s twice in a day, though she’s done much worse runs, considering how bloody her past is.

She finds her phone and dials, but doesn’t bother with a greeting. “Where are you?”

Niklaus explains that he’s already in the woods behind the Lockwood property.

Makes sense. The werewolf family, they would have jail cells. The woods are not particularly dense, but they have changed much since she was last in them. Which would make sense considering that was a thousand years ago.

It’s almost time. The light is nearly gone and the moon is rising.

She finds Niklaus watching over Greta as prepares the ritual. The torches, the circles. He is tense, but she can see the anticipation cutting through every part of him.

“Did I miss anything, eskelde?” She calls out.

“Caroline,” he greets, grinning. “I knew you weren’t going to miss this.”

“It’s the event of a millennia,” she says, “I was hardly going to let the Salvatores keep me from it.” She looks at Greta critically. “What happened to Maddox?”

“Dead. Killed by Damon Salvatore.”

“Pity. He was a lot easier to manage.”

Greta is impatient as they wait for the moon to rise to its apex, but the two of them are willing to wait for a couple more hours.

Elena walks into the clearing with her head high, Stefan Salvatore at her side. She seems serene, completely at peace with her fate. A martyr.

“Let’s begin, then,” Niklaus says, and she goes off to retrieve the first sacrifice.

\---

**Season 2 is almost over! And now, more AU-ness. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.**

**If you guys like the flashbacks, tell me. I certainly like writing them, they’re really fun. A thousand years of history, it’s great to explore. But keeping time streams straight is going to be hard. So if you spot any continuity errors, just feel free to point them out.**

**Please, please, please, review. I want to know how you guys like this.**

**-PhoenixCycle**


	5. Chapter 5

“Please don’t do this,” Stefan says to Elena Gilbert, but she silences his protests with a look. She pulls him down for a last kiss, both of them attempting in their own way to face the inevitability of her death. Stefan is crying softly, holding her tightly.

“You go over there,” Klaus says, deceptively blasé, gesturing to the last circle. To her credit, the doppelganger walks instead of letting herself be dragged. She truly is the self-sacrificing type, willing to protect her friends at any cost. Her friends certainly went to embarrassingly long lengths to save her.

Caroline comes back, dragging the female wolf behind her by the scruff of her neck, as one would for a stray dog. The vampire is dragged along by the other hand, her head forced down by the Original’s superior strength. She shoves them each into their respective circles.

“Caroline?” The doppelganger asks, stunned. “What are you doing here?”

So she hadn’t been informed of Caroline’s loyalties. She had spent the day preparing for this, rather than keeping up to date with the crucial details. How utterly of this age.

Caroline smiles triumphantly, but she deigns to answer, no longer bothering with her American accent. “Watching my husband become whole again.”

The doppelganger looks stunned, completely out of allies and scared out of her mind at the prospect of her death. She looks younger than her age, a lost lamb led to the slaughter. He revels in it.

“What’s going on?” The werewolf asks, terrified. She has no idea what this is for.

“You, love, are part of a sacrifice. A means to an end, if you will. My means, to my end.” As all mortal lives were.

“Our,” Caroline corrects.

“Our,” He amends. “Greta, if you please.” He brings one arm out from behind his back, and she begins to chant, fire lighting the circles and illuminating the clearing.

He surveyed the three women in the circles of fire. He enjoyed the poetry of the triple goddesses, the likes of which he and his family had worshiped as children. Frigg and Freyja and Skađi. Those days were gone, but he could enjoy the poetry.

Klaus walked into the first circle. The werewolf crawls back on her hands and knees, her eyes wide with terror. She skirted the edge of the circle and burned her hand. She flinched instinctively, and he took the chance to thrust his hand into the werewolf’s back, pulling it out with her heart in his hand. His fingers jam against her ribs before breaking through, but they heal before he can truly notice the pain.

He could feel the wolf slowly returning to him. It was euphoric, like feeding for the first time.

He moved to the next circle. He can see the blankness in the other's eye. She has turned off her emotions, in order not to feel the pain of dying. He stakes her, seeing her face gray. A rush of power went through him, filling every fiber of his being. If only Father could see him now.

He approached the doppelganger’s circle slowly, getting used to this regained strength. She was trembling. Her courage had gotten her this far, and now her journey would end. What a short life she had led. He could see Caroline through the flames, her eyes following his every move, committing this moment to memory. Their final victory.

Klaus bit into the doppelganger’s, neck, as he had done to hundreds of thousands of victims before, and began to drink. She let out a little scream, but he only inhaled deeper, the thick iron tang filling his mouth. He could feel her going limp in his arms, feel her butterfly pulse fading in her neck, struggling to survive.

He could feel her death in him, and he dropped the body to the ground. The moonstone explodes behind him, that trinket he had spent so long looking for, but he pays it no mind. It has served its purpose.

He has the wolf again.

This does not come without consequences. He feels the loss of his pack again, the instinctual grief just as potent as it had been a thousand years ago. Along with the wolf strength comes the codependency of the social animal. The father he never knew, only a corpse. Alvis, a potential wolf but an innocent. The howls of the dying wolves as his siblings pulled out their hearts.

 _No,_ he thinks, _that is history a thousand years past. I am the hybrid, the first of my kind. I need no pack._

He looks up, his back arching and his fangs bared, that grief forgotten. He has lost much, but he has more to gain.

\---

Caroline is giddy as her husband looks up at her, fangs gleaming, eyes yellow like a werewolf’s. Something she hasn’t seen in a thousand years, when Mikael still cared for her safety and dragged her away from the sight.

Niklaus is staggering under the weight of the transformation, weak. Had his bones begun to crack, reshape themselves? How would this work? They had speculated this over the years, anticipating this moment when it seemed so far away.

But they had never anticipated this.

Greta’s head snaps to the side, her spine cracking. The Bennett witch emerges from behind her falling body, chanting. Pain rips through her head and the fire roars, rising to the tips of the trees. She can feel the heat washing over her, intense as the pain in my head.

Niklaus crumples, his legs broken, not under the force of his transformation but under the assault of concussive magic. They had known that Bonnie was still alive, but they had thought Greta could hold her off for a while and Caroline could kill her. But the witch has much more power than they had predicted- no nosebleeds now.

But it gets much worse. Elijah surges forward out of the trees, and in an instant, his hand is in Niklaus’ chest, gripping his heart.

“Niklaus!” She screams, taking a step, but Elijah digs his hand in deeper, stopping her short.

“This is for our family,” Elijah growls, just as he did that day in Dublin. “You tossed them into the sea like they were nothing.”

“Elijah, please,” Caroline begs. This was one of the only ways Niklaus could be killed. She can’t let that happen. Not now, after everything.

“I didn’t throw them into the sea,” Niklaus says, gasping for breath, blood dripping out his mouth. “I kept them. And I can reunite you with them.” He is begging, all the triumph gone from him. Any disillusions about Elijah not really trying to kill them shatter. "But if you kill me, you will never find them."

Elijah turns to Caroline. "Is this true?" The feeling of a hand through your lung and around your heart is a deeply excruciating one, and he is desperate. He could be saying anything.

"No!" Salvatore yells. "Elijah, do it now! Kill him!"

Elijah is stuck in a moment of indecision, his hand in Niklaus' chest but the hope of seeing his family again stopping him. The Bennett witch is still chanting, but she is tiring.

"Elijah," She says softly, a plea, "We would never kill our family."

Elijah looks up, and with an apologetic look to the Bennett witch, he pulls his hand from Niklaus' chest. He drags him away through the flames, and in an instant, they are gone.

“Elijah!” Stefan says, but it is not enough to convince the Original.

Caroline gives one last look at the fiery circles, the bodies lying in them. Stefan and Bonnie on the ground. How she had longed for this day for a thousand years.

And now that was done. Which begs the question. Now what?

\---

As soon as they leave the clearing, Niklaus transforms into his wolf form. He screams just as much as he did the first time, the bones cracking loudly, shaping him to be the wolf. He falls to all fours, growling at them, rolling his head as his spine bends to accommodate being a quadruped.

He has lost his chance. And to add insult to injury, he and Caroline must clean up the mess left behind from his rampage.

"Just like old times, yeah?" Caroline says, dragging bodies into a truck.

Elijah doesn't trust how quickly she's forgiven him. After all, he snapped her neck and turned her over to the Salvatores. Hardly a light matter. And just two days ago, he had his hands wrist deep in Niklaus' chest. If there's one thing he knows about the pair of them, it is that harm to one means the wrath of the other.

But she seems in quite the chipper mood, so he agrees.

"Where were you before I called you?" He asks.

"Don't pretend you didn't know we were in London, Elijah," she says. "What did you do in Dublin after you ran your coup, may I ask? Did you rule?” A trap of a question. She is taunting him, trying to make him display his regret.

“No,” He replies shortly.

“Then where did you go?” She pulls a matchbox from her pocket and strikes it. Throwing it into the pileup, the bodies burn, making it seem as it were a terrible car crash. If suspicion arises they can always compel the authorities later.

“I traveled,” he answers. “Just as we have always done.”

“You could have joined us,” she says. “We always would allow you to be with us.” Her voice betrays her, a sliver of resentment cutting at him.

“I thought you had killed the rest of them. Finn. Kol. Rebekah.” He knows how he sounds. But he must make his point.

“As if I could ever get rid of Kol,” she says fondly. “And Niklaus is too fond of Rebekah.”

“And Finn?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

“You haven’t seen him for nine hundred years, Elijah,” she says. “Do you truly care for him as much as you pretend to?”

“He is my brother, Caroline,” Elijah says. “And unlike someone, that still carries weight with me.” He blurs away from her, but knows her mouth is open in protest.

They track Niklaus wordlessly, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. The wolf is not subtle, which makes things much easier.

They follow the swath of death back into the forest, where broken branches and bent grass leads to another clearing lit by painfully bright sunlight. On a gently sloping hill lies Niklaus, naked as the day he was born. He’s unconscious, and dirt smudges his skin. He has a triangle tattoo on his back- now that was new.

His brother stirs, looking up. “That was amazing,” Niklaus breathes, awestruck. Elijah threw his clothes at him.

“Get up and get dressed, eskelde,” Caroline calls. “As much as I like to see you naked, your brother does not agree with that sentiment.”

“How long was it?” Niklaus asks, tugging on his pants.

“Two days,” He replies, averting his eyes. “The full moon came and went and yet you remained a wolf.”

“So I can change at will,” Niklaus says, smiling smugly. “That’s good to know.”

“Thank the gods,” Caroline says, “I won’t have to fight you every full moon.”

Klaus gets in her face, smiling. “Now that I wouldn’t mind.” The couple looks at each other intensely, challenging.

Elijah clears his throat loudly. “In case you’ve forgotten, we had a bargain.”

“That’s right,” His brother says, amused. “You wish to be reunited with our family.”

“You did give your word,” he says sternly, as if they were children again and he was advising Niklaus against angering Father.

Niklaus puts on the shirt and shrugs on the jacket, getting used to clothes again. “What kind of brother would I be if I broke my word? Even if you did try to kill me.”

Elijah glares at him, irritated. “I could have. But I didn’t.”

“Now no one can,” His brother boasts, “Not even you.”

“Technically, I could still kill you in your sleep,” Caroline points out lightly.

“Ah, but you’d miss me too much,” Klaus replies. “Relax, Elijah. All is forgiven.”

“Where are they,” he demands in a level tone.

Klaus gives him an amused look, wetting his lips and taking on a ponderous look he knows to be wary of. “You need to lighten up, brother. I’ll take you to see them soon.”

\---

They get back to the apartment, Elijah trailing awkwardly behind them. Caroline is already very aware of Niklaus’ intentions to dagger Elijah. They’ve always had a spare, from when she had been daggered by the Five, so that would be used for him now.

They open the door to the apartment and find Stefan Salvatore there, pacing.

“Look what we have here,” Niklaus says, shutting the door behind him, locking it.

“I’m here for my brother,” he says, looking up.

Caroline scoffs. There is no lost love between the two of them.

“Well, you see, I have an obligation to my own brother,” Niklaus says, jabbing in indication with his thumb. “And you understand familial obligation, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Let me show Elijah,” Caroline says. “You deal with Stefan.”

Niklaus takes her hand, and she feels the cold metal of the dagger against her skin and the slight burn of white oak ash. “Are you sure?”

“Well, I certainly don’t want to talk about Damon Salvatore,” she says, holding the blade against her forearm to conceal it. “Come on, Elijah.”

She can see how cautious Elijah is being when she leads him to the back rooms where the coffins are.

"See?" she says, "Just as promised."

Elijah opens up Kol's coffin, then Rebekah's. She was right, he doesn't check Finn's or notice the extra coffin for Esther. He stares at his family in disbelief, glad beyond belief to see them. She can see it written all over his face.

She stands next to Elijah and strikes suddenly. Her brother-in-law bellows as the dagger pierces his stomach and his skin grays, giving the illusion of his death.

"That was for snapping my neck," She says, and heaves him into his coffin.

She can hear Stefan ask, "What was that?"

She blurs back to the room. "None of your concern, Salvatore. What are you here for?"

"Damon Salvatore had the misfortune of coming across a werewolf and was just stupid enough to get bitten," Niklaus says, amused. He has a drink in his hand, and he gestures with it.

"The witches said that you have the cure," Stefan says, desperate. He doesn't want his brother to die.

"Did they?" The couple exchanges a glance. Of course the witches would get involved. The werewolf bite cure was something they kept close to their chests. A bargaining chip to play at the right time.

After all, that discovery had not been a pleasant one.

\---

_France, 1038_

"I didn't realize there were werewolves here," Caroline says. "I thought they were rare."

"Well, it's a large world out there, Caroline," he replies.

"One of them bit me," she says. "My ankle."

Sure enough, a red bite mark shines on her ankle, oozing blood and some other substance.

"Why isn't it healing?" She asks.

They've had to figure out a lot of things on their own.  How they could heal others with their blood- Elijah's doing. How to turn a human into one of them- also Elijah. How to kill one of those they've turned- Niklaus. Exactly how extensive their healing powers were- Rebekah had been reckless and had been the test subject for many of those.

He supposes that this is just another experiment.

"Let's get you back to Elijah and Rebekah," He decides. "If it's anything too bad-"

"Then leave me behind and escape," she says.

"We're not going to leave you behind," he says sternly. "Always and forever, however trite a motto, still includes you."

They run through the forest, getting to the village amidst stares from the others. Their family is a mysterious one, and people like to speculate.

"What happened?" Rebekah asked. "I thought you were going to go hunting."

"Werewolves in the forest," Caroline says, "One of them bit me. It's not healing."

They attempt to wait it out, but Caroline gets worse. He brings humans for her to feed on, but she throws up the blood. People are beginning to get suspicious, and he begins to worry a lot more. Could this actually kill her?

The hallucinations begin to take hold. She screams loudly through the night, yelling at things that aren't there.

"Father," she says, sweating profusely, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm _sorry_."

"Caroline," he tries softly, reaching for her arm.

"Get away from me!" she screams, clutching at her head. "You're not real! You're dead, you're not real, you're not real!"

She shoves him hard, and he stumbles, but regains his footing.

Her posture is staggered and her mind is being ravaged by venom, though he doesn't know that. They never even realized that a werewolf bite could kill a vampire until that day.

She's muttering to her herself, alternating between crying and snarling at him, which he has no idea what to do about. They've spent about thirty years together, and while he knows her better than everyone else, but even he is not aware of all of her demons.

Rebekah inches into room. "Is she getting better yet?"

Caroline's attitude does a complete one-eighty. "Esther," she snarls, and Klaus has to hold her back, covering her mouth to keep her from saying anything. Her skin feels clammy.

She bites his palm and begins to suck, drinking from him. He's never had someone sucking his blood, but he's not opposed to the feeling at the moment. It's oddly intimate. She sighs in relief.

"Is that better?" He asks nervously, urgently. He needs to know she's alright.

She nods, but her eyes close and another wave of panic runs through him. He feels for her breath and finds it evening out, steadying. She's fine, just sleeping. If it happens again he can take care of her.

Whatever that bite did to her, his blood is the cure.

\---

_Mystic Falls, 2010_

"What makes you think that I can help?" Niklaus asks. "I mean, the witches have never liked Damon Salvatore, why would they save him?"

"If you have a cure, I want it," Stefan says.

"You are what we call useless, Stefan," Caroline points out.

"And you have not been cooperative as of late," Niklaus adds. "What do you have to offer?"

"Like you said, I don't even know if you have the cure," Stefan replied. "Why would I show all my cards now?"

"It appears we are at an impasse." Niklaus sighs, but takes her wrist. "May I?"

"Go ahead," she says. He lets his hybrid features display themselves and bites into the white flesh, and both of them moan a little in pleasure. Stefan looks on in horror, wide-eyed. He thinks that this intimate act will kill her. Not an unsurprising assumption.

Niklaus looks up and turns to Stefan, licking the blood off his lips.

"What did you just do?" Stefan asks, confused.

"Well-" The hybrid starts.

Caroline bites into her husband's neck from behind, drinking deeply. She can feel fire burning in her belly, but she has a point to make. Her fangs unlatch from him, and the red mark on her wrist disappears.

"Now, I'm hoping your brother won't be trying to do that," Caroline says, "But you get the point. His blood is the cure."

"So," Niklaus repeats, smirking. "What do you have to offer?"

Stefan is silent. He cannot think of anything worth their while.

"I thought so. You have nothing of interest to me. At least, not as you are." He cuts open his wrist and lets the blood drop into a wineglass.

Caroline looks at him. Was he really so desperate for companionship that he would go so far as to get the Ripper? She enjoyed bloodshed every once in a while, but the Ripper represented over-indulgence, being seen. He had been the reason they had nearly been caught in Chicago. Perhaps he thought Mikael's tomb was permanent, but she wasn't quite as sure.

"You know, I heard of a guy," Niklaus says, pouring himself a drink. "Absolutely crazy. Always on and off the wagon. The Ripper of Monterrey, they called him."

Caroline rolls her eyes at her husband's dramatics while Stefan looks apprehensive. He has an idea of what Klaus wants from him now.

"I haven't been like that for a while," Stefan says slowly.

"Well then I hope you can find the words to say goodbye." Niklaus shrugs. "I know Caroline wants to see him dead."

"Well, I don't see why we have to keep him alive," Caroline says, placing her chin on his shoulder. But anyone would be a fool to think that the sign of affection wasn't also a threat.

"So there it is." He sighs, beginning to pour the blood onto the floor.

"Stop," Stefan blurts out.

“I knew you’d see sense,” Niklaus says, stopping the stream of blood hitting the floor. He hands Stefan the wine glass. “Now, come back here when you’re done with this, or I will pay your brother a visit and bite him myself. And you’ll get no blood from me again.”

Stefan speeds off, urgency in every movement.

“Do you really want the Ripper back that badly?” Caroline asks. “He attracts too much attention.”

“Mikael’s gone and we’re practically indestructible, love,” he says, pouring her a drink. “Why not celebrate it?”

She drinks slowly, the alcohol burning down her throat. “What are we going to do now, eskelde?”

He toasts her. “Enjoy the life we’ve been given.”


	6. Chapter 6

"Ripper," Niklaus greets, spreading his hands at their new companion.

Stefan obviously feels uncomfortable, but not because of the role he's been forced to play. If anything, he's too comfortable in that role. Caroline can see how he now holds himself with the poise of a predator, and that makes him uneasy. He wants to be that good guy.

“I’m here,” he says, pursing his lips and letting his arms fall to his sides. “What do you want?”

"We're going to figure out where the Hel we're going to go next," Caroline says. "Since Niklaus is being mysterious about it."

"Half the fun is the mystery, love," Niklaus says, all quick and brisk movements of the head, his hands held behind his back. He's happy.

"Oh, but I much prefer you exposed," she replies, the double-entendre clear.

Stefan clears his throat loudly. "Are you guys going to do this flirt thing all the time?"

"Well, we have been married for a thousand years, it's to be expected," Niklaus says cheerfully, shamelessly looking her over. "Now, we're trying to locate some supernatural locations, so if you can of any use at all, feel free to point them out."

"So," Caroline says, rolling out a map. "Werewolf packs. We've already located a few, but what I want to know is why?"

"We can turn them," he says, as if it were obvious.

"But you were a vampire first," she points out. "Why would you turn werewolves?"

"Do I get to hear the background to this story?" Stefan pipes up.

"No," Caroline says harshly, not even looking at him. She turns back to her husband. "Tell me."

"It’s a theory,” her husband admits.

“The siring theory? Again? Seriously?” Caroline says, leaning back from the table to look at him. The idea that they’d be eternally grateful to be spared the pain of transformation seems ludicrous.

"You actually want them to be sired to you?" Stefan asks, confused, his brow furrowed and gesturing with his fingers.

“I’d like to have some insurance,” Niklaus says, making eye contact. “And this seems like the way to go.”

“Why?” Stefan says. “I mean, I’ve seen what siring looks like, and it’s not pretty.”

“It’s different with wolves,” Niklaus say, self-assured. “We have different instincts.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” She says.

“Then we'll make it work," he replies. "We have all the time in the world, love, why not?"

"Will you ever be satisfied, eskelde?" She asks.

"I suppose we'll find out when I am," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"You are much too single-minded," she says. "We should be turning potential werewolves. We know it works, we’ve seen it work."

"And if they're not sired to me?" Niklaus challenges. “If they try to attack me? You?”

"You'd give them power. Immortality. Invincibility. Why wouldn't you have their loyalty? Play your cards right, and you won't need them to be sired to you."

"You do provide a good case," Niklaus says pensively, and decides with a slap on the table. "We'll compromise. Do both. We'll see which one is more effective."

Caroline shrugged. "My way, probably."

He lets out a short laugh. "We'll have to see. Where are the biggest packs? We can take the ones they cast aside."

He acts as if it's a matter of convenience, but she knows better. He can see himself in those cast aside, the children beaten by their parents, the ones who know they're unwanted, and he wants to save them, the same way he never was. He did that with Marcel, and he would do that again.

"Well, the biggest ones are in New Orleans," Stefan says nonchalantly. “Last time I checked, that was a supernatural hot spot.”

Both of them freeze up. Logically, they know that would be the best place to go, but that place has just as many emotional mines as Mystic Falls. In both places, they had lost children.

\---

_New Orleans, 1820_

They walk with as much dignity and false sadness as they can plaster on their faces, considering it's a funeral for a man he killed. Rebekah is the only one of them truly grieving. Klaus has to hide a smirk. Her grief is wasted on the fool of a governor’s son. The boy hadn't been good enough for her, by any stretch. Good riddance really.

He expected the governor to have a bigger reaction, in all honesty. But that grief comes from losing an asset, not a son. That angers him slightly, but it is only a small upset. Let him deal with the ounce of grief he has, it is no concern of his.

The horse beneath him trots easily, as if it can sense his casualness. The beast is much more perceptive than any human, he notices with satisfaction. He has always liked them. Of course, Mikael had known that. Poor Theo. An animal that noble should not die that way.

There are slaves working in the fields on their way out of the graveyard, their faces shining with sweat. He sees an overseer barking at them, hears him insulting them.

Klaus scoffs. He is no stranger to slaves; they had been a part of life. Prisoners of war to be used however the conquerors pleased. But this was an industry, hardly worth his while. And the excuses they make about an inferior race, laughable.

His ears catch a particularly interesting tidbit. "You think that because you're the governor's bastard you don't have to work? You think your father's going to save you?"

His lips curl. A bastard, like him, beaten for something that was the fault of the parent. He urges the horse forward, interested. He can feel his wife's questioning gaze on his back, but he goes forward anyway, observing the scene as he dismounts.

The overseer raises his arm to strike, but the boy, dark-skinned with aristocratic features like Rebekah's lover, picks up an apple and throws it with all his might.

The overseer staggers backwards with shock, but regains his footing. His face screwed up with anger, he raises his whip to strike. It is then that Klaus intervenes.

Picking up an apple, he throws with all his might, which is considerately more than the boy's, and strikes the overseer in the head. The apple gives a loud crack as it impacts with the man’s skull, the fruit exploding with juice against his face. He can hear the heartbeat stutter and then stop, the body falling to the ground.

The boy spins to look at him, not in fear, but in awe.

"What is your name?" He does not bend down to meet the boy's eyes, but in him he feels a gentleness he has not felt for eons.

"Don't have one," the boy says. "My mother said she'd give me one when I turned ten, to make sure I'd live. But she died of the fever."

Well, they'd have to fix that, them.

"What about Marcellus," he says. "It means 'little warrior.'" And that is what this boy will be.

He lets the boy ride the horse and walks beside him, raising eyebrows. Caroline looks at him in confusion, and Rebekah looks outraged. Elijah looks resigned, and is ready to make amends with the governor.

"I want to buy him," Klaus says clearly.

"He's not for sale," The governor says shortly.

"Don't want to lose another son?" he asks lightly.

Caroline's face clears and she turns to face the man as he splutters denials.

"I understand this is a difficult time for you," she says, false sweetness dripping from her words. "But taking a rebellious slave off of your hands is the least we can do."

The governor cannot admit to having a bastard, as affluent as he is, so he relents, accepting the money.

"Why are you doing this?" Marcellus asks, stunned, as they walk him away from the big white house of the plantation.

"He has a soft spot for bastards," Caroline says, shrugging. "Come along, Marcellus, let’s take you home."

\---

_Mystic Falls, 2010_

"Did something happen in New Orleans?" Stefan asks probingly. He wants to know more information, which sets of red flags.

"For us, something happened everywhere," Niklaus says brusquely. He braces his hands against the table, crumpling the map. "It's settled, we'll go to New Orleans."

He blurs away.

“Okay, then,” Stefan says, holding up his hands and turning away. “I’m going to go and get a snack.

"Niklaus," she calls after him, and finds him easily.

"We haven't been to New Orleans since 1919," he comments lightly, brushing his hand lightly over Rebekah's coffin, but not opening it. "We had such fun last time."

He turns, a brittle smile sent her way. An acknowledgement of their pain, a rare thing.

"Then we went to Chicago to have more fun," she says, standing next to him. "What are we going to do about Stefan?"

"The Ripper?" He asks, surprised.

"He's not like last time," she says.

"Well, we did just kill the supposed love of his life," Niklaus says, returning from his brooding. She always hated it when he was brooding.

"He's certainly not acting like we did," she responds. "How would you react if I died?"

He responds by brushing her face lightly. "I have no idea," he says quietly, "How much destruction I would be able to unleash."

She holds his hand to her face, and they have a brief moment where they acknowledge that the sentiment goes both ways.

"He's not acting that way," she says. “It’s off.”

“People have different ways of grieving,” he says. “Perhaps he’s one of those people who puts it all behind him, I wouldn’t be surprised, considering his nature.”

“You haven’t been near him in eighty years,” she reminds him. “He’s changed.”

“Perhaps he’s trying to catch us off our guard,” he says teasingly, “And he’ll kill us in our sleep to avenge his lost love.”

“If he tries to kill you out for revenge, I will rip him apart,” she says in reply, and they grin at each other, that smile that spoke of love even if they didn’t say it.

“If that’s supposed to be funny, then I’m afraid you are sorely failing,” he says, putting his forehead against hers.

“You’re supposed to be the ‘big bad Original Hybrid,’” she says, “If we’re going to go to New Orleans you’re going to need to fit that persona, you know.”

“I’ll be my customary amount of evil,” he says, dodging around her, laughing. “Are you? Or are we going to have you be the underestimated one?”

“This is New Orleans, eskelde,” she says, smirking, “No one underestimates us there.” She strokes a hand over the varnished wood. “We're going to need to transport these; I'll call the same company as last time."

“You do that,” he replies. “I’ll go join the Ripper. Want me to bring you someone back?”

“I’ll take a blood bag,” she says. While she has no qualms about drinking from humans, since the invention of those things she has always preferred them. Less fuss that way.

He blurs away again, in a much better mood than before, and she calls the trucking company. She’ll think of a good reason they’re transporting five coffins around.

\---

They compel themselves first-class seats on a plane to New Orleans, and the coffins are carried in a truck with a compelled driver. They don’t tell Stefan about them.  Neither Klaus nor Caroline have any idea how long they’ll stay in the city, and it’s always good to be prepared.

“Exactly how long are we planning on staying there?” Stefan asks, his fingers tapping restlessly on the armrest.

“As long as we have to,” Caroline snaps.

“You’re very goal-oriented, aren’t you?” Stefan asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Probably why I achieve those goals.” Caroline says loftily. “Perhaps you could talk to your brother about it.”

If only he had his memories back, Niklaus thought with amusement, and he would probably not antagonize Caroline the way he does. Though this snappy behavior is most likely because of his thirst. However much he enjoys the Ripper, he is quite high maintenance.

“As long as you don’t eat the pilot,” he says dismissively.

Stefan looks relieved. He compels a stewardess not to scream and bites into their wrist, drinking deeply. The woman pales quickly from the blood loss, growing limp. Stefan continues to drink, completely uncaring of the pain he causes her.

The girl dies. No one bats an eyelash. But Klaus can see how Stefan’s conscious is fighting against him, demanding for him to stop. He hasn’t turned off his emotions yet, and he won’t force him to. All part of the fun.

Caroline takes a blood bag and takes a long sip. He has no idea how she tolerates the plastic things, much less prefer them. He’s never enjoyed the feeling of stagnant blood being dragged into his month, nor the absence of adrenaline in the liquid. But she has always liked feeling human.

Stefan continues to drink, consumed by bloodlust. They’ll have to come up with a good cover story when they land.

Caroline is still planning, every facet of this venture having an exact place in her mind. “Who’s the current leadership?” she asks him, ignoring the corpses on the ground. “We haven’t exactly been keeping tabs on the place since we left.”

He shrugs. “You know what I know.”

“So you don’t know anything,” Stefan says, licking the blood off his lips. “At all.”

“Whoever it is, we can beat them,” Klaus says dismissively. “We’re the Originals, we always have.”

Stefan scowls at the reminder of his failure to save the doppelganger. Caroline was right, he seems off. Stefan should have had a bigger reaction. But he pushes the thought to the side. The Ripper has always been unpredictable. An immortal lifespan means finding some way to fight off the ennui. And Stefan has always been an excellent source of entertainment. Even a friend. And for him, those are few and far between.

\---

_New Orleans, 1825_

“People are always going to expect certain things from you,” Caroline says, straightening a fifteen-year-old Marcel’s clothes. “They will always pounce on any imperfection you show.”

“That is true,” Klaus says. “But, seeing as we are in the privacy of our own home, you can muss up your clothes when sword fighting. After all, you’re only human.” Caroline sends him a look, and he smiles cheekily in response. Marcel had already been asking them to turn him, and reminders of the teenager’s humanity was not helping matters.

“Don’t get hurt,” Caroline tells Marcel. She gives a warning glare to Klaus.

“I won’t,” Marcel says cockily. The pair of them roll their eyes at the typical boisterousness of youth, but caught themselves. More and more, they were acting as parents to this boy. They had even woken up Kol to meet him. But Caroline had put her foot down when Kol went on a particularly bloody feeding frenzy and daggered him.

The courtyard is empty, cleared for this purpose. They have to do this here because most of the people in this city would not take so kindly to the sight of his sister and his foster-son fencing.

Rebekah pulls a mask over her face and flourishes her sword. She always did want to use one. Marcel mimics her, his body turned and his left arm held out as a counterbalance.

The swords they use are flimsy, thin things, nothing like the broadswords he had used for so long. But he’s had time to get used to them, seeing as they need to keep up appearances.

“Left, right,” he calls out the moves, and they follow. “Up, lunge, keep your guard _up_ , Marcel.”

Marcel is young and full of vigor, and he takes to combat much better then he takes to music for plays, though Elijah has taken great care that he has a healthy appreciation for both. Still, he is careless and reckless, and he is fighting vampires.

Rebekah scores a touch, but her strength is too much and the sword digs into the protective gear. Marcel lets out a low groan as the blade digs into his flesh.

His sister gasps and pulls out the sword, which only provokes another yell of pain.

“I guess that’s enough practice for today.” He says, getting up. “You’re getting better, Marcel.”

Caroline is already there in a flash, her blood in a cup and handed to her foster-son. Marcel takes a sip, breathing in relief as the wound heals itself. She examines the shirt, where red blossoms on the white cloth.

“This is going to be hard to fix,” she says, smacking Marcel lightly on the back of the head.

“Careful, love, you might take off his head,” Klaus calls from the staircase.

“Careful, eskelde, or I might take off yours,” she calls back.

“If you turned me-” Marcel starts.

“We are not turning you at fifteen,” she says sternly. “Not until you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now,” he insists.

“Being a vampire means everything is heightened,” Caroline says. “And being young doesn’t help that. We’ll know when you’re ready.” She places a hand to Marcel’s cheek and traces it down to his shoulder, and in these wonderful scattered moments she feels like a mother.

\---

_New Orleans, 2010_

The city is the same as it had been eighty years before, light and color and music. Fun. But they’re here for business, not pleasure.

Stefan looks about the place hungrily, and Klaus knows he is looking for targets. Food.

“Not now, Ripper,” he says. “There’s a time and a place.” Stefan still looks, but he is less obvious about his nature.

Klaus sees it through a completely different lens as he walks. The cobblestone is the same, the buildings are the same, the people are the same. This place, this place they built, is timeless.

Caroline is just as familiar with New Orleans as he is. She walks through the streets like she owns them. It attracts attention, which is a happy side effect. They need to draw the leader out. Engage in a little power struggle they’d eventually win. Find out some werewolf bloodlines and turn them.

The French Quarter. Once their home, it is a hub of supernatural life for witches, vampires, and werewolves.

The latter is what he came here for. Unfortunately, werewolves are hard to find, but he’s willing to wait. Even work with New Orleans witches, which is tricky, considering they all hated him, back in the day. Hopefully, some of that attitude has changed.

He strolls into the square, where hundreds of witches have their stalls set up. Tourists mill around them, laughing, most of them here for fun. The vendors are here to exploit that, make money. Some of them are fakes, but some are the real deal.

He surveys the crowd and finds one, a black woman who looks at him with instant suspicion. He can see the vervain flowers in a vase on her stall and the amulets ringing it. Strangely enough, he doesn’t see any grimoires, but he supposes that they don’t want to do any real magic so obviously.

“What do you want?” The witch asks warily.

“Why, you’ve only just met me,” he says, sitting across from her. Caroline flanks him, placing a hand on the back of the chair. Stefan stays behind.

“I know who you are,” the witch says, but she doesn’t attack with a magical aneurysm, which seems to be the customary reaction of witches. Curious.

“Then tell us exactly who we are,” Caroline says.

“You’re the Hybrid,” The witch says. “Half man, half beast.”

“I’m the Original Hybrid, actually,” he corrects, proud of that title. “But that’s a long story. You see-” he leans forward. “I would like a favor from you.”

“I don’t give favors to vampires,” she replies scathingly.

“It’s more than that,” Caroline says, not enjoying being ignored. “Yeah. I’m here.” She wiggles her fingers in greeting. “You’re not using magic. No one in this town is, don’t think I haven’t noticed. So what I’m wondering is why.”

“You’re the other Original,” the witch says, stunned.

“Oh, there are more of us out there,” Caroline says, her voice silk covering steel. “But I do think you’re avoiding our question.” The both of them smile viciously. Stefan watches them, bored, from behind.

“Witches aren’t allowed to do magic in the Quarter,” the witch says reluctantly.

Now that is a new development. Whoever was in charge around here had a way to keep the witches under control. A talent to be envied.

“Well, that’s all we need from you,” Klaus says, getting up. Caroline straightens up.

“Did you get what you wanted?” Stefan asks, picking under his fingernails.

“Not exactly,” he answers. “But there’s a new question that I want answered.”

\---

Klaus and Stefan go off to get drinks- whether that means blood or alcohol or both is irrelevant. She has more snooping to do.

That the witches are being stopped from using magic is intriguing. But what’s more interesting is that she’s been followed since she’s entered the Quarter. There’s a community of vampires here, and it looks like they’re on top.

Caroline turns a corner and sees two vampires cornering a young girl, only a teenager.

“We don’t like your kind here,” they growl, smiling predatorily.

“I haven’t even triggered the curse yet,” the girl says, shaking her head.

“You’re still a wolf,” The tattooed vampire replies, letting her vampire features drop.

Caroline cocks her head, calculating, and decides to move. She speeds ahead and sticks either hand into their back, pulling out their hearts. The vampires’ bodies drop to the ground, graying, and she drops the hearts nonchalantly.

The girl backs away from her, stunned. “Thanks.”

“It never gets easier, being targeted,” Caroline says, wiping her hands. She remembers that this girl is a werewolf potential. “If you never want to feel that way again, call this number.” She takes out a pen and writes her number down on the girl’s hand. “What’s your name?”

“Cyrielle,” the girl answers, looking down at the phone number.

“Well, Cyrielle, I hope to see you again.” She smiles at the girl and blurs out of the alley.


	7. Chapter 7

_Mystic Falls, 1003_

"Your son is crying again," Caroline says sleepily.

"I can hear that," Niklaus growls. His back is sore- they've been preparing for winter. Father has been pushing them to work harder than ever. He certainly would have told him to order his wife to deal with it. Niklaus has seen him do that to Esther enough times. But at the same time, it's the least he can do for Caroline.

He lets out a low groan as he rolls out of bed. Alvis is wailing, and he fumbles in the dark. The embers dying in the hearth are his only light as he makes his way to the cradle.

Niklaus picks up his squirming son cautiously. He had helped with his siblings as a child, but this was entirely different. The child is his responsibility, just as Caroline is. There is nothing he wouldn't do for them, and that terrifies him.

He murmurs to Alvis, rocking him, but it doesn't work.

"Is he hungry?" Caroline asks, exhausted.

"I think so," he says apologetically.

"Carry him here," she says tiredly.

He is much more careful this time around, skirting the floor, terrified of tripping.

"You're not going to trip," Caroline says.

"Excuse me for being afraid of dropping my child on its head," he says indignantly.

"Is it because you were?" She asks, but there is no bite to it. "Relax, you know how to walk."

"It'll probably be worse when he knows how to," he says reaching the bed and slowly sitting down.

"Yes, you'll probably follow him around with a pillow on hand," she says, taking Alvis to her breast.

"Father would beat me for being unproductive."

"You would still do it," she says knowingly.

"I would do anything for him," he vows. It's not a lie.

"That's all I ask of you," she says, not even taking a thought for herself. She seems to be under the impression that he does not care for her, that his only purpose for her is to care for his son. Niklaus supposes he should amend that.

"I would do anything for the both of you." He corrects himself, and kisses her on the forehead. All the while, he thinks that he's probably falling for this girl.

\---

_New Orleans, 2010_

"Are you done yet?" Caroline asked.

"The Ripper would like to take some more time to well, rip things." Niklaus says. Another corpse falls to the ground.

"Don't be crass," she says, annoyed.

"Come on, Caroline, have a little fun."

"I just think you we should be more cautious," She said, and her eyes dart from side to side.

"What is it?" He asks, his mood wildly swinging from amused husband to the threatening Klaus.

"We've been followed since we've gotten to the city," she says. "Don't tell me you've been too absorbed with Stefan to notice."

"So we've been followed," he says. "They haven't done anything."

"They haven't done anything yet," she corrects.

"They can't hurt us." Niklaus reminds her. "We're immortal."

"Whoever runs this city has all the witches on a leash," she says. "And don't forget what they can do."

Neither of them have a good relationship with witches. And they pose a genuine threat.

"We have to start making hybrids now.

"That would only work if we had a potential to turn," Niklaus reminds her.

"I have one," she says.

"Really?" He asks. "Where?"

"I gave her my number," she says.

"And you're sure she'll call?" He asks skeptically.

"Werewolves are a target here. She'll call," she says confidently.

"Then we're off to a good start," Niklaus says. "Drink?"

She sends him a look for being so blasé, but accepts it. The alcohol barely burns as it slides down her throat. But the metallic taste of sweet blood sates her if only for a moment.

"Whose blood is this?" she asks.

"Don't worry, you're not getting the Ripper's sloppy seconds," Niklaus says, amused. "It's that one over there." He points at the bartender, slumped over the counter.

She holds out her glass for a refill. He obliges.

"Do you have a plan for finding the potentials, or am I going to have to do all the dirty work?" She asks.

"What do you say we find a place to stay?" He asks, gesturing with his head towards the door. "This isn't going to be a short-term trip."

"If you can control the Ripper," she adds, drinking this glass more slowly. He sounds so optimistic. She's willing to bet he's already deciding how to take over this city.

"Stefan," Niklaus calls, and Stefan looks up instantly. "Time to go."

Like a dog on a leash, Stefan blurs over to them. Once again, Caroline feels an ounce of suspicion. He is far too compliant.

They leave on the bar and are faced with two vampires. They've decided to confront them. Interesting.

"Problem?" asks Niklaus, holding his hands behind his back.

"In this city, there are rules," one of them says gruffly. "And you just broke them."

"Oh, you mean the bar we just killed," Niklaus says casually. "Yeah, I suppose that was bound to break a couple rules." He smiles winningly. "So what happens when you break the rules?"

"We take you to the big boss," The one on the left says, crossing her arms.

"Then take us away," Niklaus says. "We'd love to meet him." He smiles, and they take that as submission, though if anyone knows her husband, they'd be wary of it.

These ones haven't learned that lesson yet.

\---

_Mystic Falls, 1003_

Caroline spins the ring on her finger that allows her to go into the sunlight. There are a lot of scenarios, it seems, that have become a terrible possibility in light of all these changes.

She's going to visit her parents today.

She hears the rumors that have been flying about their family, whispered as Rebekah walks through the village and flinches away from vermin or Kol tries to flirt with the village girls. Even Tatia hides her daughter and avoids Elijah's gaze. Caroline can see the devastation on her brother-in-law's face every time.

To make matters worse, they always seem to feel everything so much more. Happiness. Anger. Love. Hatred. Esther assures them it is part of becoming an immortal. Caroline has always had excellent self-control, and she finds herself holding back the others whether in anger or in bloodlust.

Oh, the bloodlust. If there was one thing to despise about this thing, it was that. Rebekah was the first to succumb, but Kol was the first to kill. And the village is the first to know. They're ordered for him to be outside the law, as their homeland would do, but no one's tried to take a chance. They all fear their family now. Perhaps that fear is enough to become desperation, to become rage… and that rage may turn to something much more palpable- and dangerous.

Caroline takes a deep breath. She has nothing to fear. After all, she has no blood on her hands; she has never killed. Her parents would understand. After all, they were the ones that endeavored for her to marry into Mikael's family in the first place.

"Hello, Moðir," She says, almost shyly, standing outside the threshold. As her mother turns to face her, she relaxes. This is ridiculous. She should feel perfectly comfortable in her childhood home. Certainly not like a foreigner.

"Caroline!" Her mother embraces her. Caroline tries to be as gentle as she can on her response, but the emotions are running high and it is all she can do not to crack her Mother's ribs with sheer excitement.

"I missed you," she murmurs into her mother's neck. She can hear the heartbeat in her carotid, feel the warmth of the blood rushing through it, and her vampire features drop, but she holds herself back. This is her mother.

"We heard awful rumors," her mother says, walking back into the hut. Caroline has to stay behind. "About Mikael and his family." She looks her up and down quickly, scanning for any signs of injury. "Has Niklaus hurt you in any way? If he has I will slay him myself." He voice takes on a new tone of ferocity.

"No, he hasn't," She reassures her, holding up a hand to test the barrier, then adds, "He wouldn't."

Her mother faces her from across the threshold, though she has not noticed anything wrong." Relief is etched deeply into every crevice of her expression. "We tried to visit, but she wouldn't let us see you."

"Who?" Caroline demanded.

"Esther!" Her mother says as if it were obvious.

Caroline feels a building resentment towards her mother-in-law. What gives her the right for any of this? She hadn't even known her parents have been looking for her.

"The family is- er- having a difficult time after Henrik." That is an understatement, but she has to choose her words carefully.

Mother's face softens in sympathy, and she shakes her head. "Horrible thing," she says. "That poor child."

"More reason to be cautious about the wolves," Caroline says, knowing that her grief cannot be too apparent, because if she cries now, then she will not stop. She has had to be the bedrock of this family in light of everything, and half of them don't even consider her part of it. It's a wonder she was even turned alongside them.

"Why haven't you come in?" Mother asks.

"I can't," she tries, and then realizes that it will be a tough time to explain.

"Why ever not?" Her mother asks, putting her hands on her hips. "Come in."

Caroline tests with her foot before she strides through the doorway, carrying far greater confidence than the perfectionist girl ever used to muster. She knows her mother will notice, but she keeps her spine straight. As much as the downsides sometimes hurt, she feels no shame. She is strong, ageless, fearless. And she loves being that way.

"For gods' sake, Caroline, this is your home," Mother says, rolling her eyes. "No reason to act as if you're royalty."

"This was my home," Caroline corrects. "I have a new family." Not that Esther or Mikael seemed aware, other than the fact that she had birthed their grandson.

"I seem to remember you were very reluctant to join this new family of yours. Speaking of your which," Mother says, looking at her sternly. "Where is your son? You should be with him."

"Rebekah is with him," She answers.

"You should bring him here," Mother says, suddenly fervent. "He would be safer with you, with us!"

"You mean, live with you?" Caroline asks.

"You know what Kol did," Her mother says, lowering her voice, as if she were about to be attacked for her words. "And you know that everyone else is too scared to give him justice."

"You don't understand, Moðir," she says defensively.

"What wouldn't we understand?" A gruff voice asks.

Caroline turns around, and her eyes widen with happiness. "Faðir!" She throws her arms around him, momentarily forgetting her strength, and he grunts in pain. She instantly lets go. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"It's nothing," Brandt says, wincing and arching his back. Several joints crack audibly. "Mikael's been having us work harder than normal. That man is tireless."

Caroline bites her lip to keep silent on the exact reasons why.

"I don't see why he must treat you so badly," Brynja said, clucking her tongue.

"I still owe him a debt," Brandr reminds her mother.

"What do you mean?" Caroline asks angrily. I thought I was the payment?"

Brandr sighs, and that is answer enough. Caroline is seething. So, she wasn't enough? She had a bone to pick with her father-in-law.

\---

_New Orleans, 2010_

The vampire guards take them to yet another bar- not surprising, this is New Orleans. It is much louder than the one they have just massacred, and there is a much larger number of vampire clientele. They feed freely, biting from necks and wrists carelessly, confident that someone will protect them. There are no casualties. Above it all is a mellow tenor voice, singing karaoke to some jazzy tune. The voice is far too familiar.

Klaus gives a sideways glance to Caroline. Her eyes are searching out the voice. They find the source of the music, and they widen. He follows their gaze, and his lips part slightly in shock, the smug smile gone.

Caroline surges forward for her son, and the dancing vampires mistake her elation for aggression. They try to hold her back, but she displays her superior strength, cracking their spines with ease. Two others charge her, but he stops them, placing a hand on either throat.

"Touch her and you'll lose your voice box," He says cheerfully, though the protectiveness is peeking out from under the veneer.

The entire thing comes to a screeching halt.

"Anyone who keeps me from my son will meet a positively bloody end, do you hear me?" Caroline proclaims loudly. Stefan, in the background not really resisting, because he knows he's dead if he does, cannot conceal his shock. Neither can most of the bar. Several limp bodies fall to the ground.

Marcel speeds over to them, and it is obvious he is trying to maintain control over his situation. He's trying to be too casual. He's flanked by a dark-skinned vampire with an afro and a stocky one in a cap. On either of their hands is a lapis lazuli ring- Marcel must have used the witches. They both look ready to charge them, but Marcel holds up a hand, keeping them back. He knows how dangerous they are.

"Mother," Marcel calls out. "I didn't know you were coming. If I had-"

Klaus watches carefully. He had last seen Marcel ninety years ago, and like Caroline had said, people change. And they still need to use him to find those werewolves.

"Yes, what would you have done?" He asks, leaning forward dangerously. Caroline sends him a disapproving look, but he knows Marcel might still hold a grudge over Rebekah, and that may come up badly.

There is a beat of awkward silence, where the former father and son stare each other down, while Caroline looks like she cannot believe them.

"Then I would have thrown you a damned parade!" Marcel says, and he slings an arm around either of their shoulders. "Klaus Mikaelson, my mentor, my savior, my sire." He leads them to the bar, and the vampires resume partying. "And my mother, who needs no introduction."

Caroline laughs. "You've grown up, Marcel," and for her, it seems that everything is resolved. She doesn't want to ask how he survived, why hadn't he sought them out. "You've got a kingdom of your own. But remember- as powerful as one gets, a mother is the one that remembers you at your least dignified." She smacks the back of his head, as she used to when he was just a teenager.

Klaus shrugs Marcel's arm off his shoulder. For him, he feels the bitterness of envy rolling in his belly. Marcel has settled down, become king. He wants something like that. Permanence.

"I've noticed the daylight rings on your lackeys," He says blithely. "How many have you given?"

"Only those who deserve it." Marcel smiles. "They have to work for it."

"Positively manipulative," Caroline says, almost with pride. "And the people love you."

"Klaus always taught me that power is what other people make of you," Marcel says, looking at her with the same charismatic appraisal he used to ensnare Rebekah. Truly, he had been much better as a human. But Caroline had insisted. Hadn't wanted to lose him.

And he is wrong. Power is power, and that is all.

"Well, Niklaus is either a psychopath or a stubborn fool, depending on the viewpoint," Caroline tells him teasingly. "So I suppose there's power in a being an ass."

"Ask my friend Napoleon," Klaus replies.

Caroline snorts. "Now that was an interesting man. Not my friend though."

"We came here because of him," He says ponderously.

"Only because you hated England after the whole revolution debacle," His wife mutters, stealing a shot glass from another vampire and downing it.

"Now, who's that guy over there?" Marcel asks, giving a subtle point towards Stefan, who looks utterly bored without bodies to drain.

"Your replacement," Caroline says nonchalantly. She always held a grudge against Stefan for that.

Klaus grunts. "If you have rules against killing here, he'll probably break them."

"Then I hope you can keep a tighter leash on him," Marcel says coolly.

"And what exactly is the punishment for breaking these rules?"

"You die," Marcel replies, and he tries to look intimidating. As if he ever could to him. There is only one person he has ever been truly terrified of, and Marcel is all too well-acquainted with him.

"Even the werewolves?" Klaus asks, feigning curiosity. "I don't seem to see many around here."

"Drove them out to the bayou ages ago," Marcel boasts, and he files that information away. Caroline might be set on turning potentials, but he has always wanted the security of guaranteed loyalty. After all, if this army is for their protection, it needs to be strong enough to face their strongest enemy.

\---

_Mystic Falls, 1003_

"What the Hel, Mikael!" She charges into the family home without caution.

Mikael rushes to his feet and then to her, towering over her. "What ails you, daughter?" He speaks with endless malice, his pride only increased by his new immortal nature.

Her resolve wavers, but stands firm. "Why does my father still owe you a debt? I thought I was the payment."

"You think that a half-wit girl and the child she whelped with my useless son was enough to pay your father's debt?" he sneers.

She raises a hand and moves, faster than she would believe, but he catches her by the wrist. She screams as she feels the bones crack and shatter and heal all at once, over and over again, and blood runs down her forearm.

"Be grateful, girl, that I allowed you to be turned, that I even accepted your pathetic father's offer," Mikael hisses.

"At least my father fights real men," She spits.

The blow to her face sends her flying, the force of her body cracking the wooden supports. Her spine snaps, and for a moment she is paralyzed, helpless. Her father-in-law stands over her.

"You will not speak to me like that again," he says, glaring at her.

He's not going to kill me, she assures herself. His reputation is already tainted enough with Kol.

But he's going to beat Niklaus bloody if she continues in this vein, so she ducks her head in submission.

"Good," Mikael says. "Now go back-"

They hear loud groaning and a woman's scream, and like the rest of the village, they rush to see what's going on.

Niklaus lays next to the body of a dead man, blood running down his chin and staining his clothes. The village is gathered around them- unlike with Kol, there can be no doubt that he is guilty. They leave as soon as they see her and Mikael approaching.

"You foolish boy," Mikael hisses, and he kicks his son in the side. "What have you done?!"

Bone cracks, but it is his leg that snaps out of place, bending at a terrible angle.

"Niklaus," she says in a hushed voice, pulling him away from his father. "Niklaus, tell me what's happening."

"I don't know," he says pitifully. "Gods, it hurts, it hurts."

Mikael drags her away from him as her husband's spine begins to reshape itself, its form ready to support a quadruped body.

"Get back!" He shouts, and it is a rare burst of fatherliness from him, and in an insane moment, she thinks, I knew he didn't want me dead.

Another resounding crack, and Niklaus' neck recedes into his shoulders, his face changing, his jaw enlarging.

She tries again to go forward, to help, but Mikael holds her back. "Stay back!"

"He's in pain! He's your son!" She yells, watching in horror.

"He's not my son!" Mikael roared. "Don't you see what he has been turning into?"

She realizes what he means. The werewolf traits are passed down from father to son, and Mikael is no werewolf.

"Father, it hurts, it hurts," Niklaus moans, rolling around on the ground, oblivious to this newfound hatred.

"No," Caroline says, unable to do anything.

"Run," Mikael says, pushing her.

She runs home crying, not to her parents, but to her son.

And the next day, she leaves him with Rebekah again to stop the ritual, thinking her parents would understand that she trusts her new family with her son.

They more than understand- they watch in silent horror as she and Niklaus massacre the mob that killed their child.

"Go be with your new family," her mother spits as she offers to let them come with her, covered in blood and a witch's binding agent for a preservation spell clenched in her fist.

They join the remaining wolves in the woods, the ones that escaped Mikael and his family's raid, and Caroline does not pursue. They do not want her, she does not want them.

Let them die, she thinks bitterly, as I never will.

\---

_New Orleans, 2010_

Caroline's phone rings, and Klaus listens carefully as she goes to answer it.

"Who is this?" She demands, but makes it not sound like a demand. A smile still stretches her face, she is so happy. Marcel is a happy surprise, but certainly not his ultimate goal.

"Elmas Burakgazi," It is an even voice, not a man's nor a boy's. "Cyrielle Olivier told me to call you?"

Caroline's face clears, and she beckons him over.

"You told her you could make sure she wasn't a target anymore, does that apply to all potential werewolves?"

Klaus' eyebrows lift, and he speaks up.

"Are you offering?"

"Who's this?" Elmas asks.

"Let's just say an interested party," he says vaguely. "So, are- you- offering?"

"I want to fight," The young man says, "I don't want to feel weak. And if you can offer that, I'll say I'm game."

"How about if I add immortality to the mix?" He offers.

The other line goes silent.

"Werewolves can't be turned into vampires," Elmas says finally.

"But they can be turned into hybrids." Klaus says lightly. "I guarantee it."

More silence as the boy ponders, but it doesn't take long.

"Where should we meet you?"

He grins victoriously.


	8. Chapter 8

Elmas and Cyrielle are not the only ones waiting for them at the docks. Four other potential werewolves stand tentatively behind them.

Caroline greets them all amiably, getting to know all of their names. They’re already factoring these new additions into their plans. Albine and Peter Daniels, twin brother and sister. James Tong, outspoken and ready to kill. Gyda Henrikson, quick-thinking and a clever fighter, whose surname makes him flinch.

They will be good generals for his army, he thinks.

He lets his blood drop into a cup and hands it to Elmas, who drinks it with only a slight hesitation. This one is especially desperate for a way to rebel against Marcel’s control over the city.

It is methodical, the way they snap the young potentials’ necks. He smiles in amusement as James tilts his head back to embrace the death and the change that comes with it.

“So now we wait,” he says.

Caroline nods her head. Normally, this would take about three hours, but these are hybrids. Nothing here is known. But he remembers getting up only slightly earlier than his siblings.

He cocks his head to the side, listening for anything out of the ordinary.

“I don’t see why we need to be so secretive,” Caroline says, shaking her head.

“Because hybrids are rare, and we’re trying to create an army of them.”

“I wouldn’t say army,” Caroline says, frowning.

Klaus turns to her curiously. “Why not?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, eskelde, werewolves are a dying breed,” she points out. “No thanks to our family. And we don’t know if they can reproduce.” She sends a glare his way. “You’re not experimenting for that one.”

He raises both hands in mock surrender, but he is laughing and pretending not to be.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. But you must admit, having our own personal army would be beneficial.”

“You have the Ripper,” she says, snorting. “Your own personal berserker.”

“Don’t tell me you still hold a grudge against him.” Today they allow Stefan free rein in the city. On Klaus’ part it is defiance against

“He was your cheap replacement for Marcel,” Caroline says resentfully. “Now that we have our son again I don’t see why we still need him.”

He cannot tell her the envy he feels towards his once-son, the burn of watching Marcel rule over a place where he has settled down. He wants to feel powerful and secure in that power.

The ties that he used to cherish will just have to be collateral damage. Nothing he’s never done before.

“Stefan remains predictable and under our control.” Klaus tries to assuage his wife’s growing ire. “Marcel is a wild card and I still don’t have a good read on his feelings about us.”

“Marcel trusts us," she argues, giving him a look.

"Which is why he still has his lackeys following us," Klaus points out.

"Following you," Caroline corrects. "He knows you, eskelde."

"Well, you can give him that," Klaus says.

"We spent a century here," she reminds him, "A hundred years with him. We know him just as well as he knows us."

“I doubt it,” Klaus says, shaking his head. “We’ve always been blinded by our attachment to him.”

He can see Caroline’s jaw clench.

“Love is a vampire’s greatest weakness, isn’t it?” She says coldly.

She’s always had more of a connection to Marcel than he has. And that has remained true even when they thought he was dead.

\---

_Chicago, 1922_

Caroline breathes heavily, clutching at the blankets of their bed. She moans quietly, and tears are threatening to run down her face.

It’s been two years since they left New Orleans as it burned, but at the same time, Caroline knows she will never get over it. She remembers struggling against Niklaus, remembers the shouting, so much shouting, seeing Mikael face-to-face for the first time in nine hundred years-

The pure fear that ran through her.

She hates that she felt so much fear. That she still feels that fear now.

The fear that Mikael will find them again dictates every aspect of their lives, even their names- they have the surname Stenberg here. They keep themselves in the upper middle class so as not to attract too much attention, their meals are sporadic. Hardly the kind of fare they were used to in New Orleans.

Why must he reach them everywhere they go?

But more than the fear is the anger.

He killed Marcel, he killed their son. He treated the both of them terribly while they were human, and chased them to the ends of the earth. Is chasing them still.

Niklaus wakes up at her movements, and wordlessly, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her to him. She calms at the feeling of his warm chest against her back, the way they used to when Alvis had just died. They remain that way for a while, and the sun rises with its pink and orange glow.

They’ve spent a month in Chicago after migrating up around, living with their hands to their mouths. But they think they can settle here, at least for a while.

He gets up, barely rustling the sheets, and kisses her on the forehead.

“You should go with us to Gloria’s tonight,” he suggests quietly. “Rebekah has been begging for some company.”

As always, the idea of a goat to accomplish spurs her forward, which is most likely what her husband was aiming for.

 “Well, I suppose someone has to keep her from nagging you, eskelde,” she says, managing to be slightly amused.

\---

_New Orleans, 2010_

When the six wake up, they set the newly-turned hybrids free in the city. They may do whatever they wish to turn. If they kill in the process, wonderful, two birds killed with one stone.

Elmas and Cyrielle lead the twins quietly to the city prison and they all quietly drain four of the prisoners on death row. Their eyes gleam and their bones break, and they go running onto the outskirts of the city, howling to the sky.

On the other hand, Gyda and James go directly to two of Marcel’s top human allies and murder them, making it very obvious that a vampire has done it. They too, join the pack running around the city.

Klaus is satisfied, happy, even, that this works. He can create hybrids. However, there is one problem.

He can feel the pack bonds forming.

This is something he can’t explain to Caroline, and he doesn’t try to, but he knows what it is. He felt it when he first turned, that first tenuous connection of a pack animal. He is the Alpha, of course- he won’t allow anything different. But all he really cares about is potential- the potential that he will lose this pack. That they will die, that he will feel their pain as he has before.

After all, his normal solution of killing anyone with potential of getting close to him is not going to work. This action is irreversible.

There is only one way to prevent that pain from happening, only one solution he can think of.

That is how he ends up standing across from the six of them, hands behind his back.

“I’m surprised that you’re doing this yourself,” Stefan says.

“I think you’ll find that I have no qualms about getting my hands dirty,” Klaus replies, smiling smugly.

“He’s well aware of that,” Caroline says, crossing her arms. “Aren’t you, Ripper?”

Stefan barely flinches at the reminder of the doppelganger’s death. He takes that as a good sign- the Ripper is cutting the ties to his old life, his old love. Perhaps Rebekah will thank him for this, whenever he decides to wake her. Something to pacify her predictable rage.

“What are we here for?” Elmas asks.

“You’re supposed to be generals in my army,” Klaus says, pacing in front of them. “You can’t do that if you don’t know how to fight.”

“We can fight,” Albine protests.

“Not like we want you to,” Caroline says, eyes narrowed. “Now, as a hybrid, we can estimate you have the strength of a thirty-year-old vampire. So you have a head start. But, you won’t always be going against thirty year old vampires.”

“I.E., Marcel?” James says eagerly.

“Not yet,” Klaus reassures him.

“No.” Caroline says at the same time.

“You said we could go against Marcel,” Elmas says, eyes narrowed.

“I said you would never be victims again,” Caroline says coolly.

“Caroline,” Klaus says warningly.

“Marcel is off limits,” his wife says warningly.

Elmas looks to him, challengingly, for answers.

“We will take Marcel down,” Klaus assures them, taking a dangerous tone, daring anyone else to protest. He is assured of the fact that he can sway Caroline to his side, but that needs time.

He looks closely for dissent among his new generals, but other than palpable disappointment from James, he can’t see any. They want the same thing he does- Marcel out of power.

“Now, Ripper,” Klaus says. “Watch me teach these young ones how to _fight_.”

He drags three nightwalkers by the ear to the center of the room, embracing the scent of blood about fill the room.

\---

_Chicago, 1922_

Music and laughter fills the room, and already, Caroline begins to relax. She knows how to handle a party.

She walks in with her head held high, as if everyone is beneath her. She must believe that she can do this.

She is an Original. Strong. Ageless. _Fearless_.

She cannot allow Mikael with his poisonous vendetta to tear her down, and she must avenge her son. It’s been two years of doing everything behind the scenes, she can stand to be in public.

“Caroline,” Niklaus says, gesturing for her to join him at a booth.

“You told me Bekah wanted me here,” Caroline says, looking around at the dance floor, aiming to catch a glimpse of the other blonde. After all, where else would the vivacious Original be except for the thick of the action?

“That I did,” Niklaus replies, handing her a glass of beer while he sips delicately at a red wine.

“Then where is she?” she asks.

He catches sight of her and his jaw tightens, a look she can recognize easily. He stands abruptly, smashing the glass down without really noticing it.

Sighing, she gets up with him, ready to settle any possible- inevitable- bloodshed.

Rebekah is dancing with a classically handsome man with dark blonde hair slicked back. He’s a vampire, which is made quite obvious, if not by the absence of heartbeat she knows to listen for, then by the faint perfume of blood surrounding him. At least that is a point in his favor.

Niklaus places a warning hand on Rebekah’s shoulder, saying smoothly, “May I cut in?”

“If you want a dance, then you’re going to have to wait your turn,” the other vampire replies somewhat snidely. Caroline can tell instantly by the tone- he’s turned his emotions off.

“I hardly think so,” her husband replies, his voice lowering.

The other vampire steps forward defiantly, but Rebekah pulls him back.

“Stefan, don’t,” she says, sending her brother a wary look that makes him smirk just the tiniest bit. “He’ll kill you.”

“I think I can take him,” Stefan says, looking down at him.

“He can,” Rebekah insists.

“I can,” Niklaus confirms.

“So, your taste in men has changed somewhat since New Orleans, Bekah,” Caroline says, appraising the emotionless vampire.

Rebekah glares at the reminder about Marcel.

“Stefan,” Niklaus says, coldly, menacingly. “Why don’t we have a drink, mate?”

Caroline sighs in relief. At least the bloodshed won’t be entirely visible.

\---

_New Orleans, 2010_

A week after training their new generals, they return to Marcel’s compound, and are greeted with a less than warm welcome.

“I was half-expecting a parade,” Klaus says, giving a cordial smile to Marcel while his eyes are warning against any movements.

“Niklaus,” Caroline says, sending him a look out of the corner of her eye.

Marcel, resignedly, raises a hand and makes a gesture. Klaus gets ready to fend off attackers, but instead, someone is led in.

Stefan, covered in blood, is led in by a crowd of nightwalkers, his eyes already filled with the regret that always marks him after a Ripper rampage.

“What did you _do_?” Caroline demands, scowling.

“We told you the rules, and you broke them,” Marcel says, addressing the audience of his subjects more than Stefan. “We have a system. We heal after we feed, and the food just keeps coming.”

“We are above that, Marcel,” Klaus urges his former son. “This is why you wanted to turn.”

“Humans are an essential part of our system,” Marcel replies, and all the vampires can watch them argue. “Two of my closest allies in the human faction, which, may I remind you, you created in the first place, are dead, don’t think I don’t know.”

So he knows about the hybrids, just not their exact nature. Klaus shrugs. It is inconsequential. But the other vampires titter at this new information.

“Stefan Salvatore,” Marcel says, raising his voice so that everyone can hear. “I sentence you to death.”

“Marcel,” Klaus says, threats to _tear out your stomach_ and _make your life miserable_ on his lips, but another voice speaks up.

“What about them?” One of the daywalkers standing next to Marcel, most likely recently promoted. “Since they’ve arrived there’s been more bloodshed than in the last five years.”

“The girl, she killed two daywalkers.” Someone says in the crowd of nightwalkers.

Klaus stalks towards the offender, arms swinging, ready for blood. “Was that an accusation? Against an Original? Against my _wife_?” He approaches the speaker, relishing the terror permeating the terror. So they have heard of him.

“Klaus,” Marcel tries to find the words to appease him, but with a swift movement, the nightwalker’s head goes flying, in direct disobedience of their most important law- not to kill any other vampires.

The nightwalkers gasp, Marcel’s jaw clenches, and Caroline lets an enraged shriek escape through her teeth.

“I just broke one of your rules,” he says, smiling wickedly. “You say that means that I must die.” He opens his arms invitingly. “Yet I cannot be killed. Try solving that dilemma, I’m sure that will take awhile.”

He turns in a full circle, waiting for any fool to attack. No one does, which is really a pity.

“You can let him go,” Klaus says, pointing a dripping finger at the nightwalkers holding Stefan. “Or you can end up like that.”

The nightwalkers look to Marcel, who nods tersely. They scatter from Stefan.

“Stefan Salvatore is under my protection,” He proclaims to the entire audience. “That is to say, he is untouchable. If anyone is willing to test that, I will be more than happy to end your less than worthless lives.”

He can feel Caroline glaring daggers at him, but he ignores it. Marcel ruled with charm and charisma, but he intends to keep power the way he always has- with power.

Klaus strides out of the compound, unconcerned, Stefan trailing behind him.

He can hear Caroline trying to plead with Marcel, saying that she can reason with him, telling him she’ll work it out. He scowls. Doesn’t she know that he’s doing this for them?

The Ripper barely looks shaken as he walks along the streets, drenched in blood.

He hears Caroline’s distinctive footsteps, and opens his mouth to defend himself.

“Not now, I’ll speak to you later,” she tells him tersely.

“What’s the fuss?” Stefan asks. “It’s all over with, come with us and celebrate!”

“I’d rather not,” Caroline says coldly. “We told you to remain inconspicuous.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“By all means take your blood, but we are here for a reason, and that is the wolves. We are not here to feed like animals, we are not here to play games for power, and if you compromise those reasons then we will have problems between us.”

“I think that I’ll handle problems with you,” Stefan replies, blasé.

“If you had your memories right now, you would be a bit more cautious with me,” Caroline snarls into Stefan’s ear as she passes.

\---

_Chicago, 1922_

The jazz plays gently in the club, washing over all of the dancers. Stefan runs his hands down Rebekah’s body as they move in sync, and they are smiling, happy.

Niklaus watches them over a drink, actually happy for them. They can rebuild after New Orleans. He has spoken about how Stefan has been a good friend- a brother, even. A welcome replacement for Kol, daggered in his box.

Caroline is not so satisfied with Chicago.

Oh, she tolerates the hedonism of it all, the allure of enjoying the forbidden fruit that is alcohol in these times. Their family has never bowed down to human authority. This case is no different.

She wants to forget. New Orleans is behind them, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t remember everything. Truly, she has been aching for the simpler times, when Marcel had been a child and they could hold together a semblance of a family. When they ruled and did it together.

That is not to say that Chicago doesn’t have its own charms.

But Stefan- the way he has elbowed his way into their lives, charming both Rebekah and Niklaus- that sets her teeth on edge.

His emotions are off, but if anything, that encourages the way Niklaus acts around him, drinking blood and alcohol indiscriminately, brooding when he is not reveling. The way he calls Stefan _brother_. That bothers her.

Rebekah is entranced with him, and anyone can see it by the way she looks at him, the way she moves around him. It is a pattern that they have long since gotten used to.

“Another bloodbath?” Rebekah scolds, sending a cursory glance at the headline of the newspaper.

“ _Another_?” Caroline asks, staring Stefan down.

“It’s nothing, Caroline,” Niklaus says, “Just a bit of fun.”

“You attract too much attention,” Rebekah says, but flirtation is obvious in her voice. She must be blinded by her infatuation, to not see the danger this poses. Mikael will be on the lookout for any massacres, and Stefan has caused four in the past month.

“You worry too much, Bex,” Stefan tells her, rubbing his nose against her cheek, eliciting a giggle from Rebekah and a scowl from Caroline.

“Experience says otherwise,” Caroline says snidely.

“You’re the strongest vampires in the world,” Stefan says, grinning. “What do you have to be afraid of?”

Caroline sighs. “You’re right.”

Stefan blinks in surprise.

“You know what? Let me treat you to a dance with me,” she continues, holding out a hand. “That is, if Rebekah doesn’t object?” Her look books no arguments from either of them.

Rebekah only raises an eyebrow, but gestures at them to go. Stefan sends an interested look at Klaus, who gestures at them to go.

Stefan takes her hand, and she leads him to the dance floor, plastering on a coy grin for any onlookers.

They dance for all of thirty seconds before she speeds them outside, pressing him against the wall of the alley.

“I don’t think Klaus would approve of us in this position,” Stefan says, before she dislocates both his shoulders.

“Don’t think of running,” she says, sneering, as he howls in pain. “I’m nine times your age, boy, and the only reason I’m letting you live is because Niklaus and Rebekah will both nag me about you for the next twenty years.”

“So, why am I here?” Stefan asks, grimacing as his right shoulder pops back into place.

“I’m going to warn you,” Caroline says. “While my sister-in-law may favor you, love you even, if you put us in danger with your carelessness again, I will not hesitate to kill you.” She grips his chin with her right hand, lifting him in the air. His jaw cracks slightly under the pressure.

“Do you understand me?”

\---

_New Orleans, 2010_

The moment they reach their new temporary residence, Caroline grips Stefan by the shoulders and forcibly turns him around, looking him in the eye, her pupils dilating with compulsion.

“You’re going to leave for about an hour. Take the hybrids with you, I don’t care what you do. Don’t feed on anyone in New Orleans.”

Stefan dully repeats the orders, before swiftly leaving.

Niklaus takes off his coat, spattered with blood, placing it on the sofa. “I imagine you’re going to lecture me now?” He asks. The nonchalance with which he says it infuriates Caroline.

“Why the Hel, Niklaus,” She yells, “Did you feel the need to do that?”

Niklaus shrugs his shoulders.

“You undermined Marcel in front of his entire court, which, by the way, is not what we were here for!”

“You find nothing wrong with this?” He asks her instead of responding.

“With what?” She spits at him.

“With the fact that he’s alive-”

“Don’t you dare, Niklaus-”

“With the fact that he’s had everything we’ve ever wanted,” he continues over her, “Stability, power, a kingdom, _permanence_.”

“What are you going to tell me, Niklaus, that you did this for us?” Caroline asks with contempt.

“I did do this for us!” he says, throwing his arms in the air.

“You did this for you.” Caroline accuses. “For your desires, for your pride.”

“And you side with Marcel over me, betraying me,” he shoots back at her, and her anger flares up.

“I’m betraying you? I’ve done everything for you! I’ve stood by your side longer than anyone on this Earth, and you accuse me of being a traitor?”

“And that so-called devotion from you?” Niklaus tries to defend, “You say that it was not returned?”

“Don’t you dare try to turn this conversation around on me,” she says, pointing at him.

He turns to leave, and she speeds in front of him. “Don’t turn your back to me!”

“Why not? You seem to be doing the same to me.”

“You continually choose Stefan, your drinking buddy, over Marcel, the son we raised for over a century, and you thought I wasn’t going to take issue with that?”

“I hardly see the issue, seeing as we haven’t seen either in ninety years. Stefan is reliable.”

“You killed the love of his life, and you think he’s forgiven you? Open your eyes, Niklaus!”

“Then open your eyes to Marcel,” Niklaus says tersely, “And see that he has stolen our entire lives from beneath us.”

“Why can’t you be a father to our son?” Caroline asks, giving him one last chance to acquit himself.

“Because he’s not our son,” Niklaus replies in annoyance.

“We raised him, we turned him, we protected him- how is he not our son?” she demands.

“WE HAD A SON!” Niklaus bellows in her face. “You talk about me replacing our son but you forget that you did it first.”

Caroline sputters in anger. “What are you trying to accuse me of?”

“You say that I replaced Marcel with Stefan, but you replaced Alvis with Marcel first,” he spits at her.

She screams in rage and hurt, and in a flash, the leg of a chair is stuck in her husband’s stomach.

“Don’t you ever say that again,” she says as he groans in pain.

“Caroline-” he growls, struggling to stand in order to chase after her, and she looks at him in contempt.

“I’ll come back when you’ve realized exactly what the Ripper is- nothing.” She says, and she leaves.

She wanders the city, her senses overloaded by everything, anger and sadness building up in her chest, and decides that there is a solution for her that she can turn to.

Caroline walks to the docks, to the warehouse that she had ordered her delivery placed, and breaks in without much problems. She lifts the door and stares at the six coffins, eyes softening as she brushes the smallest with her fingertips.

“I could never replace you,” she says quietly in her native tongue, before opening the one furthest to the right, blowing off the dust.

With only a moment’s hesitation, she pulls the dagger out of Kol’s chest.

\---

**Kol comes out to play! A bunch of you guys definitely saw that Marcel and Stefan were going to be a problem for them. I definitely think one of the interesting things about my version of these characters is that they were turned while they had a lot of parental instincts, so that's part of their characterization.**

**Not a lot of you guys have complained, but I just want to point out, if a chapter refers to Klaus as "Niklaus" then that's probably Caroline or Elijah, if it's Klaus it's probably Klaus and everyone else. I'll try to make it clear who.**

**Hello, guys! This chapter was very difficult for me to write, so sorry for my absence, but it is longer than normal.**

**-PhoenixCycle**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, guys! I know this isn’t an update, but these are the drabbles for the 100 th reviewer and the 100th favorite on Fanfiction.net. If you would like more of these, then feel free to leave a review telling me. By the way, a lot of you guys seem really eager for Kol, so while the second drabble is a bit angsty, as per request, it does include a lot from Kol.**

_For StarReader2009: Italy, 1397_

“Stay still,” Klaus says, scolding, gesturing with his paintbrush. His tools have improved throughout the years. That is an upside to immortality. He marvels at the slow progress the world has made, which only seems to be picking up.

“You’ve been saying that for the last hour,” Caroline says, pouting.

“This takes time,” he replies, attempting to appease her. “As if I can capture all your beauty.”

“Your flattery isn’t soothing the cramp I have in my leg,” his wife says. “You could probably paint me from memory.”

Not a lie.

“At least no one’s going to attempt to look down on me for this.” He says, changing the subject while adding some shading. He cannot hide the bitterness from his wife of nearly four hundred years- Mikael’s disdain during his childhood bites him. “Not a downside to this century, that’s for sure.”

“It’s slightly more cultured than our lives,” Caroline admits, accepting the change without much protest.

“Painting is no longer for the weak,” He says dryly.

“It’s a rebirth of art,” Caroline says, adopting a snooty accent, flourishing her hands.

Klaus chuckles. “I’m sure that’s the term for it.”

“You can have an occupation here.” She says. This place has been such a wonderful refuge for them, despite Kol’s absence. Last they heard from him, he was somewhere with witches in the East. Rebekah has not come with them- Italy has too many painful memories for her.

 “As if I’d ever have a patron,” Klaus scoffs. “Too binding.”

“You could always compel them,” She suggests, getting up despite his protests otherwise, uncaring of her nakedness.

“Or we can be our own _great house_ ,” he counters. “And I can sponsor myself.”

“Elijah’s been getting money,” she says, “That’s not entirely implausible.”

“Then it’s settled.” He says, grinning up at her. “We’ll become the most powerful house in Europe. The Originals.”

“Not the Mikaelsons?”

“Hardly. Neither of us are Mikaelsons.” He shrugs. “Besides, I quite like the moniker. The Original vampires. They already call us that.”

“We can create our own army,” she said.

“Turn a group of mindless peasants and be done with it,” he says.

“Basically what every lord and king does, with the added bonus of immortality.” She smirks, draping herself over his lap.

“I’m never going to finish this painting,” he says, giving up and placing his paintbrush aside haphazardly. He can always get new ones. But incompleteness always bothers him.

“I’m artwork enough,” she says, preening.

“That is a sentiment I can agree with.” He says, leaning up to steal a kiss. She leans forward to kiss him back, and he presses a hand to her back.

The incomplete painting is forgotten.

_For chillwithJyl: New York, 1944_

Niklaus joins the war with eagerness, blood burning for a fight. She is a bit cross with him, but she cannot deny him blood. And to be honest, they need to remain inconspicuous, and an of-age, perfectly healthy man staying home from the war stands out. And his German-sounding name doesn’t do him any favors.

So Caroline becomes yet another woman with a blue star in her window.

She pulls a dagger out of Kol’s chest the minute he is gone. Why not? Niklaus had his turn with Stefan Salvatore.

Kol is spared from joining the war by his apparent age- her favorite brother in law was turned at seventeen summers, a fact she sometimes forgets. The concept of age and adulthood has changed so much in the hundreds of years she has lived- or the closest semblance she can reach to it.

Not too long ago, a boy like Kol would be sent off to war to become cannon fodder. To hit a drum with a stick, to wave a spear around, to carry armor, to wield a sword. He would have been considered a man.

But of course, times have changed. And Kol would say that there are no boys like him.

She lives with her brother-in-law- oh! what a scandal- with no family to speak of and too much money to know what to do with, a background story that makes people whisper.

The vampires whisper about them too. They wonder, if those are the Originals, where is Klaus? They wonder if this means that she is unguarded. They wonder if this means that they can use her as leverage against her husband.

She and Kol put them in their places.

Kol laughs with every kill, blood dripping off of him with every movement, while she slices and rips and is done with it.

“We’re the Originals, _darling_ ,” he says jovially to one screaming vampire, slowly reaching through his body, fingers digging like worms. “My insufferable brother is hardly the only one of us who can cause pain.”

The screaming vampire says an unintelligible obscenity at them.

“What was that?” Kol leans forward, cupping his hand around his ear mockingly. “Couldn’t quite catch that, you’re going to have to repeat it.”

The other vampire tries to spit at him, but Kol tips his chin up to that he chokes on his saliva.

“Shame, I’m sure it would have cut to my very core,” Kol says.

“That’s enough, Kol,” Caroline says, and the tortured one looks up with hope in his eyes; perhaps he will be set free.

He is wrong- his heart is ripped out of his chest mercilessly. Neither of them remember his face or his name. He is one in a list of hundreds of thousands.

“You won’t let Nik dagger me again, will you, Caroline?” Kol asks one night, with the countenance of the teenager he had once been. A small moment of childish worry.

“Of course not,” she promises.

And course, fifteen years later, she breaks that promise when Niklaus returns from Europe.


End file.
